


these memories lose their meaning.

by rachelbee



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Kidfic, did it for the update, gail made me do it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-10 13:05:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 76,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10438350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelbee/pseuds/rachelbee
Summary: Semi-continuation of my fic, "thank you". Lucy returns to a present where she's married to Wyatt, and struggles with slipping into this new life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethylark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethylark/gifts).



> this is for Gail who wouldn't stop pestering me about not sharing anything I write and promised me she'd update "Canary" if I wrote her a thing. 
> 
> so, here's the thing.
> 
> I'll be waiting for that update! ;)

Teddy had left long ago, leaving Lucy and Wyatt alone in his room. She sat in her chair, telling him about the mission, and assuring him that Teddy had kept her safe. Something kept glinting in the low light of the room, but she was too afraid to mention it, afraid that something had changed while she’d been gone.

She was selfish in not wanting to ask him about his wife.

His wedding ring had caught her attention when she’d first sat down in the chair, but she’d tried to ignore it, tried to quell the worry that crept into her heart. Jessica was back, somehow, and he was married.

It was the only explanation, or so she’d thought. Ever since she’d gotten back, though, Wyatt had been even more affectionate than usual, always brushing his fingertips across her hand, fitting his hand to her knee, leaning in closer and pressing kisses to the crown of her head. Surely a married man would not do that with a teammate.

It wasn’t until he mentioned, “home” that she finally figured it out.

_She_  was married to Wyatt.  _She_  was his wife.

“What did you just say?” she asked, frowning back at him, not sure she’d heard correctly. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. He chuckled, pressing another kiss to the top of her head as she stared back at him, dumbfounded.

“I said to tell the girls that I’ll be home soon,” he repeated. “Don’t tell them I’m in here, that’ll just make them worry.” Lucy nodded, her face still blank as she tried to make sense of this new timeline. “Just say I had to stay behind. Mission stuff, you know.” She nodded again, still reeling. The girls…

“Do you mean,” she began, still frowning. “Our  _daughters_?” she asked, and she could feel her face heating up at the mere thought of having children with Wyatt. But then he frowned back at her, asking if she was okay, and she knew it was true.

Not only was she married to Wyatt, but she also had two kids with him.

* * *

They had his eyes.  _Of course they did_ , she thought as she scrolled through her phone. They were five and seven, and Lucy still had no idea how that had worked out. She’d only met Wyatt a little over a year ago; how could she have two kids, that were clearly made the old-fashioned way judging by their appearance, that were that old?

“Lucy,” Agent Christopher called out, and her eyes snapped up from her phone. “Are you okay?” she asked gently, and Lucy nodded, smiling quickly.

“Yeah, sorry, this timeline is just a little different,” Lucy whispered, glancing back down at her phone. Their names were Amelia and Layla.

Amelia was seven years old, top of her third-grade class, brilliant like her mother. Lucy grinned down at the picture of her making honor roll for the fourth time in a row, tears in her eyes as she saw how happy her little family was.

She was happy.

Layla stayed at home with Lucy, it seemed, and would start Kindergarten in the Fall. There were plenty of pictures of Lucy and Layla on mini adventures around San Francisco, all historical landmarks. Layla posed next to a number of statues in the parks Lucy’s mother would take her around when she was younger. There were photos of her sitting at Lucy’s desk at Stanford; so she was still a professor here.

“So, what changed?” Rufus asked, sitting down next to her. She wordlessly handed him her phone, making a point of using her left hand, her engagement ring and wedding band glinting in the light. “Whoa,” he breathed, noticing the new ring instantly. “Noah?” he asked, and she shook her head, pushing the phone towards him.

Rufus frowned, taking the phone from her, and his eyes widened as he scrolled through the photos.

“He doesn’t know,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Rufus glanced at her before continuing to scroll through the pictures.

“Hey, it’s me,” he muttered, smiling softly. Lucy leaned in to look at the picture. Rufus was grinning from ear to ear, and the girls were hanging off of his arms like they were monkeys and he was a tree. They looked even younger in this picture; Layla couldn’t have been more than two, making Amelia only four. “Uncle Rufus,” he read the caption underneath the picture. “They’re adorable, Lucy,” he whispered, scrolling back through more pictures.

Lucy had never been one for social media, but the Lucy in this timeline had posted everything.

She did the cliche “tummy picture once a week” while she was pregnant with both girls, and had Amelia in the pictures when she did it with Layla. She had pictures of her and Wyatt holding their newborn babies, and pictures of Wyatt asleep with a baby on his chest, a Star Wars movie playing in the background.

Layla’s first tooth, Amelia’s first Easter, the girls’ first Christmas together, their first trip to Disney World, Layla learning to swim, Amelia getting her orange belt. An entire life she hadn’t lived, hadn’t known she wanted to this badly. But, she did. She wanted so desperately for this life to be hers, to have two girls with Wyatt’s eyes and her nose, to live this life with him.

“Lucy,” Rufus’ voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, amazed to realize that she was crying. She sniffled, wiping her eyes.

“I want it,” she whispered, so soft she wasn’t sure Rufus had heard her. “I want it,” she repeated, and Rufus frowned down at her. “I want it to be real, I want this to be my life.” She looked back down at her phone, scrolling through the photos again. “I’ve seen it and I want it.”

“Mom!”

Lucy looked up as two girls burst through the door, immediately latching onto her. She gasped at the sudden rush of affection, looking at the girls wrapped around her middle, mumbling about how much they missed her.

She recognized them instantly. Layla and Amelia.

“Lia said the time machine made Daddy sick,” Layla mumbled into Lucy’s waist, and Lucy brushed her daughter’s hair back, smiling softly.

“Daddy’s just taking care of mission stuff,” she replied, remembering what Wyatt had told her earlier. “He’ll be home with us soon, I promise.” Layla nodded, accepting this answer and buried her face in her mother’s middle again. Lucy huffed a laugh as she hugged her girls.

“When will he be home, Mom?” Amelia asked, and Lucy shrugged, unsure of what she should tell her.

“As soon as he can,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of Amelia’s head. The girls let go of her waist, each taking one of her hands and dragging her towards the exit, complaining that they’d been there all day.

Lucy waved goodbye to Rufus over her shoulder and he chuckled, waving back as Lucy was whisked away by her daughters.

* * *

Their house was gorgeous. Four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, spacious living room and kitchen, nice-sized backyard riddled with jungle gym equipment for the girls to play on, and a small pond in the front of the house where Lucy assumed Wyatt took the girls fishing, as she’d seen in her photos. She wasn’t too far from her mother’s house, the house where she grew up.

Lucy hadn’t even considered the possibility of her sister somehow being alive until Layla had tugged on Lucy’s shirt and asked when Auntie Amy was coming over.

She’d almost dropped the plate of chicken nuggets she’d just made.

“What did you just say?” Lucy asked, bending down and gripping Layla’s shoulders, her eyes wide. Layla tried to shuffle back. “No, baby, you’re not in trouble,” Lucy soothed, and Layla relaxed, twirling in her mother’s hold. “I just need you to repeat what you said.”

“When is Auntie Amy coming over?” she asked again, and Lucy pulled Layla into her arms, hiding her face in her daughter’s hair, knowing she was going to cry. She pulled away, handing Layla her chicken nuggets, sniffling over the sink as she gathered the dishes she’d dirtied preparing dinner.

“Layla, she’s coming over tomorrow morning, remember?” Amelia reminded her sister as she pulled her chicken nuggets apart, dipping them into the honey mustard on the edge of her plate.

Layla sighed dramatically, rolling her little eyes, and Lucy bit back a laugh. “I know  _that_ , Lia,” she muttered, tearing her chicken nuggets apart as well. “I meant what  _time_.”

“You said eight, right, Mom?” Amelia asked, and Lucy smiled, nodding. It was still so strange to be called ‘Mom’ and she wondered how she’d felt in this timeline when she’d been given the title. She made a quick mental reminder to scroll back through her videos to try and find a video of Amelia’s first word.

“Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” Layla’s small voice drifted through her thoughts, and she turned to her daughters, smiling softly.

“Daddy will be home soon,” she whispered. “Now, eat up and then get in your pajamas.” The girls nodded, and Lucy bit back a sigh of relief at having navigated the whole bedtime situation correctly for the time being.

“Are you gonna check my homework?” Amelia asked as she deposited her plate into the sink. Lucy nodded, thinking that definitely sounded like something she’d do.

Amelia was unfazed by Lucy’s ineptitude and quickly handed her a bright blue folder with her name written on it. Lucy smiled at the messy handwriting, so much like her own. Layla stood on her tip-toes, reaching up and pushing her plate up onto the counter.

“Here, baby,” Lucy whispered, taking the plate from her small hands and gently placing it in the sink.

“Thanks, Mommy!” Layla cried, taking off after her sister, bounding up the stairs into their rooms to get changed for bed.

Lucy collapsed onto the couch in the living room, flipping through Amelia’s homework, smiling at her chosen topic for her History essay: the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.

The front doorknob jiggled, and Lucy froze, her eyes snapping up at the sound. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched helplessly as the door was pushed open. She was about to scream Wyatt’s name, even knowing he wouldn’t be able to help her, when the man entered the house. She sank back into the cushions, her heart rate returning to normal as she frowned up at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, standing immediately to help Wyatt into the house. He grunted as she threw his arm over her shoulders, closing the door and locking it. “You’re supposed to be in bed,” she chastised. Wyatt rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Nice to see you too, honey,” he murmured, and she blushed. “Where are the girls?” he asked, untangling himself from Lucy and limping toward the stairs.

“They’re getting ready for bed,” she muttered, following him as he tried to hobble up the stairs. “Wyatt, you need to go back to Mason.”

“Luce, come on,” he whispered, turning around to face her. “I’ll stay in bed here,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to Lucy’s neck. “Maybe you can stay with me,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling her jaw. Lucy shut her eyes, tilting her head back as Wyatt moved closer, his hands circling her waist, kissing up her jaw.

She definitely wanted to take him up on that offer.

She reluctantly pulled away, sliding past him as she made her way up the stairs. “I have to put the girls to bed,” she explained before ducking into one of the bedrooms. She pressed herself up against the closed door, her eyes shut tight, breathing heavily.

It wasn’t exactly the same as when Noah had tried to coax her into bed; Lucy actually knew Wyatt, and those same feelings had already been there. But, it almost felt like cheating. She wasn’t really his Lucy, after all, and he needed to know what had happened.

“Mommy?” Layla’s small voice broke through her thoughts and she snapped her eyes open to find Layla standing in her Disney Princess underwear, struggling to pull her nightgown over her head, her arms flailing above her. Lucy giggled, kneeling down in front of the small girl and gently tugging the nightgown over her head.

“There’s my girl!” Lucy cheered, and Layla giggled, throwing herself into Lucy’s arms. “Have you brushed your teeth, yet?” she asked, and Layla shook her head, pointing at the door.

“Lia hasn’t come to get me, yet,” she whispered, her wide eyes watching the door as she spoke.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Amelia gently pushed the door open, holding a Frozen toothbrush out for Layla. Lucy scooped Layla into her arms, relishing in how small she was for five years old, and followed her girls into the bathroom.

“Mom,” Amelia whispered as Layla busied herself with squeezing way too much toothpaste onto her small toothbrush. “Did I hear Dad?” Lucy nodded, gesturing to their bedroom.

“He just got home, but he’s very tired, so he’ll come say goodnight later.” Amelia nodded, turning to pull the toothpaste away from Layla.

“No, I need more!” Layla cried, reaching for the toothpaste. Amelia gently pushed her sister’s hand away as Lucy leaned over the sink and took the toothbrush, dripping toothpaste, and held it out in front of Layla.

“Smile nice and big!” Lucy whispered in her daughter’s ear, and Layla immediately spread her lips in a wide grin, baring her small, white teeth. Lucy giggled as she gently brushed Layla’s teeth, and Amelia brushed her teeth next to her.

“Story time, Mommy?” Layla asked once Lucy had told her to rinse and spit and had washed the remaining toothpaste off of the toothbrush. Lucy frowned at the clock on the wall; it was already much later than she’d thought.

“Auntie Amy is going to read to us tomorrow morning, Layla,” Amelia gently reminded her sister, and Lucy smiled at how helpful her other daughter was. She reminded her of herself when Amy was younger, albeit a little younger. When Amy was five, Lucy had been twelve.

“Okay, girls, time for bed,” Lucy urged gently, helping Layla off of her footstool, holding her tiny hand. She led the girls to their rooms, following Layla into hers to tuck her into her bed.

“Goodnight, Mommy,” Layla whispered dramatically, and Lucy giggled for the hundredth time since meeting the girls.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Lucy whispered back, leaning down to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, cupcake,” she whispered, smoothing her hand through Layla’s soft brown curls.

Lucy poked her head into Amelia’s room, seeing her arranging her stuffed animals so that she was almost surrounded.

“Want me to tuck you in?” Lucy asked warily, knowing that at seven, she herself had been pretty independent. Amelia glanced up, considering. Finally, she nodded, sliding down under her covers.

Lucy smiled, making her way over to Amelia’s bed, sitting on the edge as Amelia snuggled down, pulling her stuffed elephant closer. She brushed Amelia’s hair back, her breath catching as Wyatt’s bright blue eyes stared up at her.

“Dad was hurt, wasn’t he?” she asked softly, and Lucy startled out of her thoughts. She nodded solemnly, offering her an encouraging smile as she leaned closer.

“He’s going to be fine, though,” she whispered, kissing her forehead. “He just needs some rest. Nothing could keep him away from you two.” Amelia nodded, turning on her side, pressing her face into her stuffed elephant.

Lucy reached over and turned the light off before heading towards her own bedroom. The bedroom that she shared with Wyatt.

She paused just outside her room. She hadn’t thought of that; she’d share a bed with Wyatt again, and this time, they’d sleep. Lucy briefly wondered if they’d do  _more_  than sleep but quickly squashed that thought down. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her bedroom door open.

Wyatt was spread out on top of the covers, his arm propped up on a pillow as he scrolled through his phone with his good hand. Lucy sighed, shaking her head, plopping down on the bed next to him. He smiled warmly at her, shifting so that his arm was wrapped around her. She took his phone from him and held it out.

“What did the doctors really say?” she whispered and Wyatt chuckled, kissing the crown of her head. She could do this; Wyatt had already taken to pressing soft kisses in her hair in her timeline. She’d been shocked the first time he’d done it, after a particularly bad mission where she’d almost been buried alive, but had since grown accustomed to the wave of calm that would wash over her.

“They said I could go,” he whispered. Lucy looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. He sighed, leaning forward to brush his nose against hers. “They said I could go as long as I stayed on bed rest for the next week.” Lucy nodded, very aware of how close he was to her.

“Then, you’ll stay in bed,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to speak any louder. They were in a bubble, just the two of them, and she was afraid she’d break it. He smirked, and her heart pounded as he leaned even closer, his lips just barely brushing hers.

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he breathed, and she shivered as his lips gently touched hers as he spoke. “You could stay in bed with me.” He leaned forward that last bit, capturing Lucy’s mouth with his.

It was even better than she remembered.

This Wyatt kissed her just the same as her Wyatt, although he was a bit more enthusiastic. Lucy pressed back against him, sighing into the kiss, her fingers softly stroking the stubble on his cheek. His arm circled around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as he drew his teeth over her bottom lip, making her gasp in surprise. His tongue tangled with hers, and Lucy completely relaxed in his arms as they explored each other’s mouths.

“Ah,” Wyatt hissed, and Lucy quickly pulled away, her hands flitting over his chest. “No, it’s fine, baby, I’m fine,” he quickly assured her, seeing the worry in her eyes. She glanced down at his chest, remembering his other injury.

“Cracked ribs,” she whispered, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. Wyatt reached out, shaking his head, pulling her hand down into his.

“Lucy, it’s fine, it just surprised me,” he tried reassuring her. He leaned forward, gently kissing her again, brushing his lips over her cheek, her nose, her eyelids, whispering that he was fine over and over again.

“We should probably postpone any strenuous activity,” Lucy whispered and Wyatt huffed a laugh against her cheek before pressing a kiss there.

“I suppose you’re right,” he relented, leaning back. She rolled over and turned the light off, snuggling down in Wyatt’s arms, careful to wrap her arms around his middle, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.

It was nice, being held like this by Wyatt. It was better than she’d imagined, and a wave of guilt rushed through her as she realized she still hadn’t told him that she wasn’t really his wife. She bit her lip, hiding her face in his chest, his gentle breathing and strong heartbeat already lulling her to sleep.

She’d tell him tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Wyatt looked so peaceful when he slept.

Lucy had opened her eyes to the unfamiliar room, worried at first, but a small sleepy groan had turned her attention to the man she was currently using as a pillow, and she’d glanced down at the rings on her finger, and everything had come rushing back.

Instead of freaking out, like she usually did and almost wanted to, she had rested her head gently on Wyatt’s arm and watched him sleep. It calmed her down, simply being in his presence, and she tried not to think about why that was.

Oh, who was she kidding? She knew why. She loved him.

It had been a shock to find out that, in this timeline, they were happily married with two beautiful daughters. Lucy had needed  _her_  Wyatt more than anything, needed him to help her find her head in all that chaos. Then, she’d looked at the pictures of her happy little family, had seen all the love in Wyatt’s eyes as he looked at her and the girls, and a sense of jealousy washed over her.

She was jealous of this Lucy. This Lucy loved Wyatt and he loved her. He’d loved her enough to marry her, and Lucy wondered if because they’d been married for so long if Jessica had even been in this timeline.

She wanted it.

She’d told Rufus as much last night as she sat in the conference room, trying to collect her thoughts as they debriefed. She hadn’t told anyone that she and Wyatt hadn’t been married in her original timeline, hoping to keep up appearances and not worry anyone. Rufus knew, of course, but only because he’d been with her; he’d come from their original timeline with her.

Wyatt had been left behind, and she wondered if that’s why her present had changed so drastically.

“Luce?”

A gentle voice stirred her out of her thoughts, and she blinked down at Wyatt, his blue eyes squinting sleepily up at her, his mouth quirking up into a soft smirk. Lucy smiled down at him, her heart aching.

God, how she wanted this to be real.

“Morning,” she whispered, and he reached up, curling his fingers in her hair, pulling her mouth down to his. Lucy sighed into the kiss; if she never made it back to her original timeline, she could get used to this. Wyatt quickly deepened the kiss, and Lucy giggled, pulling away. “What did I say about strenuous activity?” she teased, and Wyatt rolled his eyes, sitting up with her, wincing. She noticed, laying a gentle hand over his chest, worrying over his injuries.

“I’m fine, Luce, just a little sore,” he assured her, kissing her temple. She sighed, frowning softly. He moved to pull her into his arms, but she held up a hand, stopping him.

“Wait,” she whispered, and her voice broke. She cleared her throat, folding her hands in her lap as she moved to sit cross-legged in bed next to Wyatt. “I have to tell you something. You deserve to know,” she began, and Wyatt frowned, looking worried. She took a deep breath, huffing out, “I’m not your wife.”

Wyatt was quiet for a long while, frowning at Lucy. She could hear him thinking, and wished he’d just talk to her. She knew it was a bit of a bombshell to drop first thing in the morning, but she had to tell him because she felt like she was helping him cheat on other her-

“Other you?” he asked suddenly, and Lucy looked up at him. “Yeah, you were saying all that out loud,” he chuckled. Lucy blushed and he sat up straighter, looking at her. “You came from a different timeline, didn’t you?” His voice was soft, understanding. “A timeline where we  _weren’t_  married, I’m guessing.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes wide. “We were definitely not married,” she breathed. He tilted his head at her, and she refused to let her brain comment on how adorable he looked like that.

“Wait,” he began, leaning in toward her. “Were we even  _together_  in your timeline?” Lucy took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She felt him sit back, sighing. “Lucy,” he breathed, and she braced herself for his inevitable grieving for his real wife. “I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” Her eyes snapped open at that, and she frowned at him.

He was looking at her, so much sadness in his eyes, but not at losing his wife; he was worried he’d made her uncomfortable.

“Wyatt, there was no way for you to know,” she assured him, scooting closer to him, entwining her fingers in his good hand. “It was my fault for not wanting to tell you,” she admitted, lifting his hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it. “I was selfish, and I should have told you last night.”

He frowned softly at his hand in hers, and she quickly dropped it, realizing how that could be confusing. He smirked up at her, his blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light.

“Well,” he muttered. “Tell me about yourself, ma'am,” he urged gently. Lucy giggled, shaking her head.

“You’re the only person allowed to call me that,” she admitted quietly. She sighed, biting her lip, wondering where to begin. “Well, in the timeline I left, I’m a professor at Stanford, working under my mother, taking a leave of absence to chase after Flynn in a time machine.” She nodded at him. “You’re our soldier, and our pilot is named-”

“Rufus,” Wyatt finished, smiling easily. “Yeah, that’s all the same in this timeline, too. Except for you working under your mother,” he muttered. He frowned apologetically up at her, and Lucy knew before he even said the words. “Lucy, I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She’d figured, what with Amy apparently being back, that her mother was already dead in this timeline. She remembered the last words she’d spoken to her mother, in her timeline, regarding Rittenhouse, and wondered if that had changed anything.

“Wyatt,” she breathed suddenly. “What do you know about Rittenhouse?”

Wyatt sat back, frowning at her. “Emma is Rittenhouse,” he said slowly. “We’re chasing after her, just like we were chasing after Flynn.” Lucy nodded for him to go on. “You, uh, found out your mom was Rittenhouse,” he supplied. “And she gave you the journal that Flynn has.”

Lucy hadn’t even told her Wyatt that last part.

“So, not much has changed, then,” she whispered. “What was our first mission?”

“The Hindenburg.” Lucy frowned. How was that possible? “You lost your sister on that mission,” he muttered, and Lucy sat up straight. “We got her back a few weeks ago. Came home from 1979 to the girls asking about Auntie Amy.” Lucy grinned, tears welling up in her eyes. She’d gotten her sister back.

“Tell me something else,” she whispered, lying back down next to Wyatt. He smiled softly at her, and she could tell he was resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her, so she snuggled up close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Like what?” he breathed, and she felt his lips against her hair. She sighed, reaching down and entwining their fingers again.

“Tell me how we met.”

* * *

_October 11, 2005_

Wyatt had gotten to class early, still slightly hungover from the night before. He’d met a girl, Jessica, and they’d really hit it off. She’d left the party before he got her last name or her number, and he was planning on paying a nerd to figure out her information after he survived this history class.

He sat in his seat in the back, the only person in the room, his eyes closed, trying to will his massive headache away. A pair of high heels clicked into the auditorium, making him wince. They paused by his seat, then continued down the aisle, clicking even louder as they hit the hardwood floor by the teacher’s podium. They shuffled around, almost anxious, before making their way back up the aisle.

Wyatt hoped that meant they were leaving and settled deeper into his seat, when a small voice asked, “Are you asleep?”

“No, ma'am,” he sighed, hoping the newcomer would take the hint and leave him alone. He just wanted to rest a bit before he had to sit through a woman harp on about history.

“Have you seen Dr. Preston? Is she here?” the girl asked, and he could tell she was worried. If he hadn’t been childishly cranky, he would have been curious. But, he really just wanted her to go away.

“No idea, ma'am,” he mumbled, and she scoffed.

“Look, I get it. You’re hungover and exhausted and probably aren’t too into history, but stop being a smartass and tell me where Dr. Preston is.” Wyatt flinched at the change in her tone. “And I am the same damn age as you, so stop calling me, ‘ma'am’.” His eyes fluttered open, focusing on the person in front of him.

She  _was_  about his age, he realized, with dark curly hair and warm brown eyes, her face flushed with anger. She stood over him, her arms crossed, watching him expectantly. He smirked, leaning forward.

“I’m sorry, ma'am,” he apologized, wincing when she scoffed again. “Sorry, what’s your name?” The girl raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t properly address you if I don’t know your real name.”

“Lucy,” she supplied quietly. “I’m looking for Dr. Preston, now are you sure you haven’t seen her?” she asked, almost desperate, and Wyatt shook his head, truly sorry.

“I haven’t seen her yet, Lucy,” he admitted. “But, I’m in her next class, so she should be here, soon.” Lucy nodded, running her fingers through her hair, tapping her toe. He reached out and gently took her other hand, pulling her into the seat next to him. “Come on, take a seat, calm down, take a deep breath.”

Lucy plopped down in the seat next to Wyatt, taking a deep breath just as he instructed. He watched as she composed herself, and her fists unclenched, the color in her cheeks fading. “Thanks,” she breathed once she was relaxed in the seat. “So, you know my name. What’s yours?”

“Wyatt,” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out. She shook it, smiling softly at him. “Why are you looking for Dr. Preston, Lucy?” She blushed, ducking her head as she dropped his hand to run her fingers through her hair again.

“Well,” Lucy began. “She’s my mother.” Wyatt blinked in surprise, glancing down at her.

“ _You’re_  the professor’s daughter?” he asked, smiling softly. He’d heard his professor talk about her family before, and how proud she was of both her girls. Lucy was either the history major or the black belt, and he tried to figure out which one she was as she nodded, explaining she was looking for her mother to tell her that she wanted to drop out of school. That got his attention. “Wait, you’re dropping out?”

“My boyfriend, Evan,” Lucy started, smiling brightly. “He and I are going to join a band and travel all over the country, sleeping in our car, just playing gigs to get by.” She giggled, and Wyatt smiled, her laughter infectious. “I know my mom will be furious, but it’s what I want to do,” Lucy whispered, grinning.

“So, what do you do now?” he asked conversationally. Lucy nodded at the podium in the front of the auditorium.

“I’m studying to become a history professor,” she murmured. “Just like my mom.” Wyatt nodded, smirking.

“Ah, so you’re the history major, then,” he muttered, and Lucy turned to him, frowning. “Your mom talks about you a lot, and your sister.” He nodded up at the podium, too. “She’s really proud of both of you, and I’m sure she’ll be just as proud of you when you’re a rock star somewhere.” Lucy giggled, nudging her shoulder against his.

“Thanks, Wyatt,” she said sincerely, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, gazing into her eyes.

Years later, when he would tell this story, he would lie and say he knew he’d fallen in love with Lucy three weeks after this day, when he’d first kissed her on a busy street in the middle of the afternoon. But, truthfully, he fell in love with her the day he met her.

“Lucy?”

They both jumped, turning in their seats. Carol Preston stood at the door to the auditorium, carrying a large briefcase, frowning down at her daughter sitting with one of her students.

“Mom!” Lucy jumped up, rushing over to give her mother a hand with her things, following her down the aisle to help her set up her podium. Wyatt quietly excused himself, ducking out into the hallway as he heard Lucy warn her mother that she should sit down.

* * *

Lucy tipped her head, Wyatt pressing a soft kiss to her hair, presumably out of habit. She didn’t mind. Her mind was racing with too many questions. She’d been anxious to tell her mother, but Wyatt hadn’t mentioned anything about her being soaking wet, which she was certain he’d have remembered. Had she not crashed her car into the river?

“Did I go?” she asked quietly, still frowning. Wyatt shook his head, the movement jostling her own head, and she giggled.

“No, you showed up before class the next time,” he continued. “You told me your mother had been furious, as you expected, and that you’d decided to let Evan go on his own.” Lucy turned, looking up at him. “So, I did what any 22-year-old college kid would do in that situation,” he began, and Lucy raised an eyebrow. “I asked the beautiful smart girl if she’d help me with history.”

Lucy laughed, and Wyatt grinned at the sound. “I was your tutor?” she asked between laughs, and he nodded. “Oh, gosh, when did I become such a cliche?” she chastised herself, and Wyatt chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Lucy paused, and he quickly pulled away.

“Crap, I’m so sorry,” he apologized frantically. “Lucy, I’m so sorry, I forgot.” Lucy shook her head, smiling softly, and placed her hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her again.

“Wyatt,” she breathed. It was like the first time all over again, and his heart pounded as his gaze flicked down to her lips. “It’s okay,” she whispered, and she leaned in slowly, their noses brushing together. He knew this was all new to her, so he stayed still, letting her take control.

“Ew!”

Lucy and Wyatt jumped apart, turning to the doorway where Layla was standing, giggling, her hands thrown over her eyes, her hair a wild mess of curls. Lucy giggled, moving from the bed to kneel in front of her daughter.

“What’s so 'ew’?” she teased, tickling Layla’s belly. Layla shrieked with laughter, tumbling into Lucy’s arms easily. Lucy scooped her up, dragging her back to the bed with her. “Is  _this_  'ew’?” she continued, smothering her little cheeks with kisses. Layla giggled, rolling away from Lucy and into Wyatt.

“Daddy, help me,” Layla giggled, her eyes bright as she clutched her father’s shirt in her little fists. He shook his head, grinning down at her.

“Sorry, kiddo, Mommy and I are on the same team,” he muttered, wrapping his arm around Layla and kissing the top of her head. Lucy giggled, kneeling on the bed, continuing to kiss Layla’s face all over, Layla laughing uncontrollably, fighting to get away.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Layla cried, and both Wyatt and Lucy pulled away, smiling down at their daughter. “Okay, you two can go back to yucky kissing if you let me go play with my toys.”

“Are you  _bargaining_  with us?” Lucy asked, feigning shock. Wyatt laughed at her expression, pressing another kiss to Layla’s hair before he lifted her out of the bed, setting her gently on the floor.

“Go! Go, Layla,” Wyatt urged as Lucy playfully tried to grab at her from the other side of Wyatt, leaning over him. “I’ll hold her off, go!”

Layla shrieked again, running out of the room, and Lucy and Wyatt laughed as they heard her little feet patter down the hall, then down the stairs as quickly as possible. Lucy’s laughter subsided as Wyatt rolled back over, looking up at Lucy. She smiled down at him, absently tucking her hair behind her ear.

“We should probably get downstairs before Layla breaks something,” he warned her gently, and Lucy silently agreed, rolling off of Wyatt and getting out of bed quickly. She cleared her throat, nodding. Wyatt moved to get up with her, but she rushed back to the bed, gently pushing him back down.

“No, no, where do you think you’re going?” she scolded gently. Wyatt rolled his eyes, smirking up at her. He tried to get up again, his eyes shining. “Wyatt, I’m serious,” Lucy giggled, pushing him back into the bed, leaning over him. “Stay put.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Wyatt breathed, raising his hands in mock surrender. Lucy rolled her eyes and left the bedroom, heading to Amelia’s room.

* * *

Amelia was sprawled out on the living room floor, face down, her eyes closed as Layla danced around her. Amy sat in the big chair, holding a book out, giggling at her nieces. Lucy had helped Wyatt downstairs to watch, and also so the girls could see him, and was curled up next to him on the couch, watching her daughters reenact the story Amy was telling.

_Amy was in her living room._

Lucy snuggled closer into Wyatt, hiding her face, and he pulled her closer, knowing she was choking back tears because her sister was only a few feet away from her.

“And then,” Amy continued the story. “The zombie princess rose from the dead and  _ate_  the heart of the evil queen!”

Amelia quickly flipped over, making a show of slowly rising from the dead and Layla giggled as her sister clumsily grabbed at her, pulling her back down to the carpet with her, blowing raspberries into her tummy. Layla laughed, her little arms halfheartedly trying to push Amelia away.

“Lia, stop!” Layla cried, giggling as she tried to disentangle herself from her sister’s hold. Amelia laughed, releasing Layla as Amy closed the book, and held a hand out to the girls.

Amelia and Layla immediately stood, bowing as Lucy and Wyatt clapped and cheered, shouting for an encore.

“Alright, my little zombie princesses,” Amy said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and kneeling down in front of the girls. “Give me kisses, Auntie Amy has to go to work.”

Both girls launched themselves into Amy’s waiting arms, kissing her on both cheeks. Lucy smiled fondly as Amy stood and leaned into Lucy’s face.

“You too, sis! And you, sir!” Lucy chuckled as she and Wyatt both kissed Amy on either cheek. “Ah, so much love in the Logan household,” Amy gushed, making her way to the door, smiling brightly at the little family. “I’ll be back tomorrow, girls!”

Lucy turned around on the couch, watching out the window as her sister got into her car and drove away. Wyatt rubbed his thumb over her shoulder, knowing how she was feeling.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Layla cried, and Lucy turned around again, frowning worriedly at her daughter. “I gotta go!”

“Go?” Lucy asked quietly, and Wyatt gasped, pushing Lucy up off the couch.

“Go, Luce! As in  _go_ ,” he urged, and Lucy quickly spun around and scooped Layla up, running her upstairs.

Amelia and Wyatt both sat downstairs, waiting.

“Do you think she made it?” Amelia whispered to her father, and he shrugged, his eyes trained on the upstairs hallway.

Lucy’s head poked around the corner of the landing, smiling. “We made it!” she cheered and Wyatt sagged with relief, chuckling at Layla’s excited shrieks.

* * *

Lucy toweled off her hair, walking back into her and Wyatt’s room in her pajamas. After they’d spent the entire rest of the afternoon playing outside, she’d tried giving the girls a bath, since it was apparently usually Wyatt’s job, and had taken an impromptu bath herself. Layla enjoyed splashing while Amelia enjoyed dunking her entire body under the water, and the tub had lost a significant amount of water by the time both girls claimed they were clean.

After Lucy had helped the girls into their pajamas and tucked them both into their respective beds, she’d taken a shower herself, washing off the soap bubbles that had mounted themselves in her hair.

She sat down on the bed, yawning as she leaned back into her pillows, scrolling through her phone. Wyatt walked in from the girls’ rooms down the hall, gently sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oh, here,” Lucy mumbled, reaching out to help him lay down on the bed. He groaned as he settled back into the pillows, smiling up at her.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and she nodded, smiling softly. “So, are you sure you didn’t have kids in your timeline?” he asked. “I mean, you’re a natural.” Lucy shook her head.

“I always wanted to be a mother,” Lucy admitted, tilting her head. “I think that’s mostly why I got along with Amy so well. After our dad died, our mother wasn’t ever really home and I was old enough to stay by myself, so I kind of raised Amy.” Wyatt nodded, frowning. “And, I almost had a baby, in my timeline.”

“Really?” Wyatt asked, surprised. “What happened?” Lucy shrugged.

“It was a donor, and it just didn’t take,” she admitted. “I was devastated, at first,” she continued, her voice breaking. Wyatt rested his hand over hers on the bed. “Knowing what I know now about Rittenhouse and my legacy, though,” Lucy started, taking a deep breath. “I’m kind of glad it didn’t work.” She shook her head, frowning softly. “I probably wouldn’t have been picked to be on the team if I was a single mother.”

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully, absently brushing his thumb over the back of her hand, frowning apologetically up at her. Lucy stared back at him, her heart swelling at the look in his eyes.

She felt that wave of jealousy wash over her again. This Wyatt  _loved_  this Lucy so much. She wondered how he was keeping himself together what with his wife as he knew her all but disappearing into thin air. The pain of what he must have been going through caused her to get choked up and Wyatt reached up to brush a tear away before it slid down her cheek, probably thinking she was crying for her unborn child.

“Come on,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to speak any louder. “You need your rest.” Wyatt nodded as she helped him get comfortable, scooting himself down under the covers. Lucy silently held up the corner of the sheet, making sure he was all tucked in, leaning over him to cover his body with blankets.

“Lucy, it’s not that cold,” he chuckled as she made sure to tuck the edge of the covers into his side. Lucy only smiled and continued worrying over him, reaching behind him to fluff his pillows. “Hey,” he whispered, gently grabbing her wrist in his hand, holding it above his head. She looked down at him, surprised, her wet hair falling in her face. He reached up with his casted arm, brushing her hair out of her face.

Lucy watched him carefully as his expression changed. His eyes softened, and she felt her pulse quicken as he dragged her by her wrist, bringing her closer to him. She obliged, her eyes slipping shut as their lips met in the middle. Wyatt kissed her carefully, gently, as if she would shatter at any moment. Lucy sighed into the kiss, rolling onto her side and holding his face in her hands, her fingers gently tangling themselves in his hair.

They kissed like that for what felt like hours, and Lucy reveled in the feel of Wyatt’s strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, the taste on his tongue that was just pure Wyatt, the way he kissed her so slowly like she was something precious.

Because, to him, she realized, she was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. The response to this has been absolutely breathtaking; thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented, whether on tumblr or on here. A lot of you had commented worrying about how Lucy feels about the new Wyatt and not being with her Wyatt, and I touch on that in this chapter. I am sad to say that, since I'm basically co-writing with masochists, this will be a very bumpy ride for poor Lucy, but I know how to fix it so it will end happily. Hopefully. 
> 
> Warning about this chapter in particular: there is a description of a minor panic attack. Starts at "Lucy's eyes snapped open..." and ends at "'Lucy,' Wyatt snapped...". 
> 
> Also, I am not a historian, so any historical inaccuracies are... creative liberties! :)

Someone was making cinnamon rolls.

Lucy’s mouth watered as the distinct scent wafted into her room from the kitchen. She opened her eyes, looking around the room. There wasn’t much in Wyatt’s guest room, which was where she’d been staying since she’d found out her mother’s involvement with Rittenhouse. There was a bed and a small chest of drawers, and Wyatt had found her a small handheld mirror and a hairbrush that she’d placed on top of the dresser.

Her clothes were in the drawers, and her latest research was sprawled over the top. Books were stacked on the small nightstand next to the bed, the little alarm clock Wyatt had given her perched precariously at the top of the stack.

She yawned, stretching her arms out as she sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She didn’t think twice about waking up in Wyatt’s apartment until she shuffled out into the kitchen, drawing her robe tight around her body to ward off the morning chill.

Wyatt was in the kitchen, icing the freshly baked cinnamon rolls: Lucy’s favorite. He glanced up as she took a seat at the little breakfast bar, looking over at his work. He grinned at her, his eyes brightening as he took in her appearance.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased her, nodding at her hair. She rolled her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears, watching him ice the rolls. She frowned as he worked, humming something under his breath. Something was odd, something was off in the way he was doing it. His hands looked different.

Lucy audibly gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as she stood up from the bar, her eyes wide as she really looked at Wyatt.

_He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring._

“Wyatt?” she breathed, running around the corner into the kitchen, afraid to touch him in case he disappeared. He had turned to face her, frowning deeply at Lucy’s odd behavior.

“Luce, what’s wrong?” he asked, and his hands reached out, gripping her shoulders. Lucy melted into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder as she breathed him in, sniffling against his t-shirt. He held her tight as she cried, his fingers gently smoothing through her hair, his breath on her neck as he whispered small comforts into her hair.

“I missed you,” she whispered eventually, once the tears had subsided. Wyatt flinched at that, and she pulled away, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Lucy,” he whispered, and his eyes were so full of pain. He didn’t want to tell her; he didn’t want to hurt her.

“You’re not real,” she muttered, her heart aching all over again as she took a step back from Wyatt. He shook his head, helpless.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, reaching out for her again, but she stepped back, out of his reach. He swallowed, looking down at the ground. “You  _have_  me, though,” he reasoned, looking back up at her. “Don’t you?” Lucy shook her head silently, and he frowned. “Isn’t he  _me_?”

Wasn’t he? He was technically Wyatt, sure, but that Wyatt had lived almost an entire life with another Lucy. It was almost worse than coming back to a reality where she was engaged to Noah, a perfect stranger, since she had actually known Wyatt in another timeline; the Wyatt standing in front of her, with his messed up hair and sleepy eyes and sexy smirk. The Wyatt she had now had a thousand different memories of a life she never got to live, and might never get to live.

_Her_  Wyatt was broken but strong, and he was always there when she needed him. They weren’t together in a romantic way, but Lucy loved him. He was her best friend, and she just wanted her Wyatt back.

“No,” Lucy replied finally, shaking her head as the tears began to fall again. “He’s not you.”

“ _Luce_.”

Lucy’s eyes snapped open as she sat up, gulping in air as she tried to catch her breath. Wyatt was there, his bad hand resting on her wrist as his good hand smoothed her hair away from her face. She vaguely realized she was having trouble breathing, and the room started to spin. She had to get out had to get back to  _Wyatt_  she needed  _her Wyatt_  back how was she ever going to find him  _how was she going to get back to her timeline how was she going to fix this she couldn’t fix this she was stuck here she was stuck here._

“Lucy,” Wyatt snapped, and he pulled her toward him, his wide eyes meeting hers. “Look at me. Right at me. It’s okay,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers. Lucy nodded, copying his breathing pattern. In. Out. In. Out.

She slowly calmed down, relaxing in his grip. She nodded slowly, smiling softly at him as her breathing returned to normal.

“Thank you,” she gasped, taking slow deep breaths as Wyatt gently rubbed her arms, soothing her. “What happened?” Wyatt sighed, frowning at her.

“You woke up crying, and you wouldn’t calm down,” Wyatt explained quietly, and Lucy noticed it was still dark outside. It must have been either very early or very late. “You were having a panic attack,” he supplied. Lucy nodded, glancing down and noticing for the first time that Wyatt was dressed. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you dressed?” Lucy asked quietly, frowning. “What time is it?”

“Agent Christopher called,” he explained, and Lucy nodded her understanding as he suddenly closed his eyes. “Look, I know how you feel. I miss her, too,” he whispered, and Lucy frowned up at him. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with tears.

Oh.

He missed his Lucy, just like she missed her Wyatt. Lucy nodded again, tears threatening to spill over.

“I know you want to go back, and I want to bring my Lucy back more than anything,” Wyatt admitted. “But, it’s too dangerous. We don’t know what changed or how to change it back, and it’s too risky to play with time travel like that.” His eyes wandered over to the doorway, and Lucy realized what he was worried about.

_The girls._

“You’re right,” Lucy whispered, clearing her throat, trying to quell her emotions. “What did Agent Christopher say?” she asked instead, and Wyatt stood from the bed, seemingly thankful for the change of subject.

He shuffled over to the door, turning the light on, washing the room in a warm orange glow. Lucy shut her eyes, flinching at the sudden brightness. “Emma’s gone to August 1956, Chicago.” He glanced back at her. “Any ideas?”

Lucy frowned, thinking. “Chicago 1956. Maybe the DNC?” she suggested. “Kennedy might have been there. I think he would only be a senator, though.”

Wyatt shrugged, turning back to leave the room. “I’ll go get the girls up.”

* * *

The only person who knew Lucy and Wyatt weren’t actually technically married was Rufus, and even he was starting to question that as Lucy argued with Agent Christopher about Wyatt going with them to 1956.

He and Wyatt were sitting in the conference room as Lucy and Agent Christopher hovered over their seats, leaning over the table at each other as they ‘discussed’ Wyatt’s injuries and his ability to accompany them.

“It’s too dangerous,” Lucy insisted, her voice strong. “He’s healing, yes, but he is still hurt. What if Emma’s found stronger men to accompany her? What if they kill him?” Her voice broke on the last part, and Wyatt was at her side in an instant.

“Lucy,” he breathed, turning her to look at him, and Agent Christopher sat down, trusting Wyatt to breathe some sense into his wife. “That is all the more reason for me to go with you. What if Emma gets to you? Or Rufus?” he asked, glancing back at their teammate. “I promised I would protect you.” He turned to Rufus, standing up straight. “Both of you.”

“I hate to say it, Luce, but I’m with Wyatt on this one,” Rufus muttered, standing as well. Lucy spun on him, and he held up his hands in surrender before she could start arguing with him, too. “Look, you’re wanted by Rittenhouse. And, no offense, but you don’t have the best track record of  _not_  being kidnapped.” Lucy huffed at that, but her shoulders relaxed as she silently admitted defeat. “Without Wyatt, we don’t stand a chance.”

“Fine,” Lucy relented, turning back to Wyatt. “But we stay together. No splitting up.” Wyatt nodded, smiling softly at her.

“Yes, ma'am,” he whispered, and her expression softened as she playfully rolled her eyes before marching out of the conference room to go get changed.

“Dad.”

Wyatt and Rufus both turned to find Amelia standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. Wyatt immediately knelt down to be at eye-level with her, pulling her hands into his.

“Lia, baby, what are you doing awake? Go back to your sister, get some sleep.” Wyatt whispered, kissing his daughter’s forehead.

“Layla snores,” Amelia grumbled, and both Wyatt and Rufus chuckled at that. Amelia’s eyes wandered over to Rufus and she smiled, her face brightening. “Aren’t you going to put on your funny clothes, Uncle Rufus?”

Rufus paused at that, his eyes widening slightly. It made sense, of course, that he would be known as Uncle Rufus. Lucy and Wyatt were as much his family as his mother and brother were. And Jiya. She apparently watched the girls while they went on their missions. She stayed with them at Mason Industries and even took them home with her sometimes if the team was gone for longer than a day.

“Uncle Rufus and I were just discussing something,” Wyatt stepped in, as Rufus had taken to staring in wonder at the small child in front of him instead of answering her question. Rufus cleared his throat, nodding as he shook himself out of his thoughts. “Mission stuff,” he mumbled, and Amelia nodded, understanding. She leaned in and quickly kissed her father’s cheek.

“Goodnight, Dad,” she mumbled and he messed up her hair as she ran to Rufus, raising her arms high above her head, making grabby hands and giggling. Rufus knelt down and Amelia wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a small kiss to his cheek as well. “Goodnight, Uncle Rufus,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

Rufus stayed on the ground, watching the open door for a while. Agent Christopher had excused herself, leaving just him and Wyatt.

“Lucy already told me they didn’t exist in your timeline,” Wyatt prompted, and Rufus looked up at him, hastily getting to his feet and brushing the knees of his pants off.

“No, you two weren’t together,” Rufus mumbled, still looking back at the door. He wasn’t sure why he was so thrown by Amelia coming in to kiss him goodnight and calling him 'Uncle Rufus’; he’d seen the pictures on Lucy’s phone and had seen the caption underneath the photo of both girls climbing all over him.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked gently and Rufus grinned.

“She’s like a little Lucy,” he realized, recognizing the gentle smile and thrilling laughter. Wyatt chuckled at that, nodding.

“Yeah, Amelia is,” he agreed. “Lucy says Layla’s my little doppelganger.” Wyatt paused, clearing his throat. “Well,  _my_  Lucy says that, anyway.”

Rufus frowned apologetically at his teammate, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we can get her back for you,” Rufus hoped, but Wyatt quickly shook his head.

“No, I already warned Lucy. It’s too dangerous to change things like that, without knowing exactly what we’re doing.” He took a deep breath, heading to the door, still needing to change into an appropriate outfit for the 50’s. “We could lose the girls.”

Rufus flinched at that, already apprehensive about leaving them behind in case they ended up erasing them after all. He quickly followed Wyatt to the wardrobe dock.

* * *

_August 16, 1956_

Senator John F. Kennedy was on stage, staring out at the crowd at the Democratic National Convention. They’d been there for a few days already; the festivities were almost over.

In a few moments, he would walk up to the podium and deliver a speech. In a few moments, unbeknownst to him, a woman who worked with a fellow senator, Joseph McCarthy, would give a small signal, an infinitesimal motion, and shots would be fired.

It was poetic, really. Had he known how he’d go down in a few years, as the President of the United States, he might have thought the plan to be inspiring in a way.

There were three people in the crowd, though, searching for the woman, trying to stop them from killing him. One had broken away to get a better look, in complete awe that she was staring up at the John F. Kennedy, only a few years before he would become President. Two men were scrambling around, only having just realized she’d gotten away.

Lucy was in the crowd, and Wyatt couldn’t pick her little hat out from all the others. He looked back at Rufus, his eyes wide. Where had she gone?

“Wyatt! Rufus!”

Both men spun around, looking for her, spotting her in the middle of the crowd, standing next to the photographers. They both immediately rushed to her side, Wyatt taking her in his arms as he checked her over for injuries.

“Wyatt, I’m fine,” Lucy promised, pulling out of his grasp. “I haven’t seen Emma, have you?” she asked. Wyatt shook his head, glancing all around the crowd.

“What if she’s not here for JFK?” Rufus suggested, frowning as he looked around the crowd as well. Both Lucy and Wyatt turned to him, frowning incredulously. “No, like, what if she’s here for someone else? Who else is a threat to Rittenhouse?”

Lucy and Wyatt exchanged a look, and Lucy bit her lip in concentration. Through all the commotion, they never noticed the young senator himself leave the stage, thrusting a small stack of papers into the chest of his speechwriter. He crept silently through the crowd, not knowing several pairs of eyes were watching him.

But, no one made a move.

The woman that had been watching him, waiting to give the signal, instead slipped through the crowd, now cheering for the speechwriter on stage. The men that had been watching him quietly followed her, watching as the young senator made his way to a small group in the middle of the crowd.

He came to a stop right next to Lucy, his hand gripping her elbow and pulling her away from Wyatt.

“Who are you people?” he growled in her ear and Wyatt’s hand moved to his pocket, ready to pull his gun on the future President without a second thought.

“Wyatt, no,” Lucy chastised as she yanked her arm out of Kennedy’s grip. “What are you doing down here? You should be on stage giving a very important speech,” she wondered aloud. Kennedy waved her off.

“My speechwriter will give it,” he replied offhandedly. “Now, who are you people, and how do you know the name Rittenhouse?” he spoke quietly, deliberately, his eyes narrowed. Rufus gulped, his eyes wide as his gaze bounced between Lucy and Wyatt, searching for instructions.

“How do  _you_  know that name?” Wyatt asked as Lucy and Rufus exchanged a glance, both too shocked to speak. Kennedy huffed, glancing around. Lucy followed his gaze, frowning at one of the men standing nearby.

“We can’t speak here,” he muttered, inching closer to the three. “Just follow me and lose any tails you might have.” And with that, Kennedy was off in the crowd, weaving his way through the thousands of people.

Wyatt squeezed Lucy’s hand in his, nodding at Rufus as they quickly followed after Kennedy. Wyatt pulled Lucy through the crowd, keeping a tight grip on her hand. The man from earlier crept silently after them, keeping his head high, trying to blend in with the mass of people.

It almost worked.

About a split second before they reached the edge of the crowd, after seeing Kennedy climb into the backseat of a car and wait, Lucy turned around and came face-to-face with the man from earlier. He sneered at her, lunging for her, his hands wrapping around her waist and yanking her back.

“Wyatt!”

Her hand slipped from his as the man pulled her back into the crowd. She heard Wyatt and Rufus’ strangled cries as they disappeared from her sight. She groaned, frustrated, and started kicking at her attacker as he hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Let me go!” she screamed, hoping to get someone’s attention as he pushed his way through the crowd. Lucy kicked and screamed, clawing at his back as she tried to get him to loosen his grip on her waist.

“Hey, that man is taking that woman!” a voice shouted. Lucy sighed, relieved, as a man fought his way after her, reaching a hand out to help her.

“Oh, that’s his wife!”

Lucy turned as the man paused next to a redheaded woman. She smirked up at Lucy, her eyes dark.

“Pleasure to see you again, Princess,” she whispered before turning back to the man trying to help her. “This is his wife, and she was trying to get away. He’s got her back now, though, so thank you for your efforts but they are not required.”

The man glanced up at Lucy, worried, but left them alone, slipping back into the crowd. Lucy’s heart sank; she was trapped.

“Come on, Princess,” Emma muttered, and the man carrying Lucy followed after her as she made her way in the opposite direction of Rufus and Wyatt, ducking behind the platform and into a small copse of trees. Lucy began to kick and scream again, trying to loosen the man’s grip on her waist.

“Where are you taking me?” Lucy grit out, and Emma laughed, turning back to look at her.

“Lucy, where do you  _think_  I’m taking you? I thought Flynn had tried this already.” Emma turned back to the trees, poking around with a branch, searching for something. “It was brilliant, really. Kidnap the princess, turn her against Rittenhouse, destroy all of our plans. But, then, you wrote about me.” Emma turned back, grinning. “And well, that has made all the difference.”

Lucy felt her blood run cold as she tried to make sense of what Emma was implying. “How would my writing about you make a difference?” Lucy asked quietly, and the man gently set her on the ground, keeping a firm hold on her wrist lest she try to run away again.

“Did it ever occur to you that if Flynn hadn’t known about my existence, if you hadn’t tried to warn him of my whereabouts, I would still be trapped in a cabin in the Wild West?”

Lucy’s heart stopped. She had done this. Emma was right; if the Lucy who wrote the journal hadn’t mentioned Emma at all, hadn’t tried to warn Flynn about her, Emma wouldn’t be a problem right now. They would have taken down Rittenhouse, and Emma would have been none the wiser. Emma smirked as she continued poking around the area. Her branch caught on something clearly metal and Emma jumped back, smiling.

“There she is,” Emma muttered as the Mothership flickered into view. Lucy sprang into action, trying to claw at the man’s hand still wrapped around her wrist, screaming for Wyatt and Rufus.

“ _Lucy!_ ”

Wyatt.

Lucy grinned as she tried even harder to get away from the man and Emma. Both had groaned upon hearing Wyatt call her name, and the man opted to pick her up again instead.

“Put me down!” Lucy screamed, kicking at him. “Wyatt!”

Wyatt ran into view and Lucy could have cried as he aimed his gun, not thinking twice as he shot the man holding her in the shoulder. Lucy ducked out of the way to give him a clearer shot, and the man crumpled. She quickly disentangled herself from his hold, sprinting away from Emma as she worried over her fallen soldier.

“Lucy, thank god,” Wyatt breathed as she ran into his arms. She whimpered against his neck as he held her tight, kissing her hair all over as he fought to catch his breath.

Emma had already climbed into the Mothership, leaving her man on the ground, and was gone before Wyatt had a chance to even look up. He bit back a curse as he held onto Lucy tighter. She was whispering something against his skin, and he frowned, pulling back to look at her.

“My fault,” she mumbled, looking up at his questioning gaze. “It was my fault, Wyatt. My journal led Flynn to her and if he hadn’t rescued her, she wouldn’t be here. I told Flynn about Emma, and I’m the reason Emma is here.” Wyatt gently smoothed Lucy’s hair away from her face, frowning softly down at her.

“It wasn’t your fault, baby,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead. Lucy relaxed instantly at the gesture, her hands gripping his shoulders as she closed her eyes, tears silently slipping down her cheeks. “They would have found a way to save her, you couldn’t have stopped it.”

Lucy stayed like that, soaking in his warmth and love, her eyes closed as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He whispered reassurances across her skin, and for the first time since being thrown into this alternate timeline, Lucy swallowed her jealousy and just let herself  _enjoy_  this new Wyatt. She didn’t think about his Lucy, or her Wyatt, and basked in his obvious love for her, taking it all in.

It was truly something to be loved so much by someone. She wondered how she’d ever thought anything before him had been love.

Lucy quickly calmed down, smiling up at Wyatt as he kissed her gently, his thumbs brushing the dried up tears away from her cheeks. “Where’s Rufus?” she whispered, looking up at him.

“He’s with Kennedy,” he replied quietly, pulling away to intertwine his fingers with hers, leading her back to the convention. “We were asking him where they could have taken you, and he knew exactly where they were going.” Wyatt paused, taking a deep breath. “Lucy, we need to talk to him. He knows about everything.”

Lucy froze, stopping in her tracks as she frowned up at Wyatt. “Everything?” she repeated. “Like what?” Wyatt turned to her, sighing.

“He knows about time travel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TimelessDeductions was so kind to mention this story in the latest chapter of "Unexpected Life" and I encourage all of you to read that story, as well as "Timing" by OnceUponAWhim because, honestly, if you're not reading that, what are you doing with your life??


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to get this up before the rewatch but couldn't figure out the ending in time. I have a lot of plans for Kennedy and his involvement, so this is not the last we'll see of him. 
> 
> I, unfortunately, have a very demanding retail job, so I will try to post again hopefully by next week, but we're all getting our shifts extended this week and next and I honestly might be too tired to write. So, I'm hoping to update in a week like I've been doing, but I can't make any promises...

Lucy wasn’t sure when she’d ever get used to bumping into important historical figures on a daily basis.

Future President John F. Kennedy, then Senator of Massachusetts, sat across from the three time-travelers, stirring his coffee as he frowned thoughtfully at them. He wiped his spoon across the lip of his mug, setting it on the desk, and took a calculated sip, his eyes tracking Wyatt’s every move.

“I see you got your wife back,” he began, gesturing to Lucy who was still completely starstruck. Wyatt nodded tersely, and Lucy noticed his hand hovering near his pocket. Kennedy wasn’t a threat, was he?

“Yes, sir,” Wyatt replied softly, glancing over at Lucy. Kennedy was entirely wrong on that assumption, she realized; he hadn’t gotten his wife back. He just had Lucy.

“Senator Kennedy,” Lucy blurted, unable to quell her curiosity for a moment longer. “How exactly do you know about time travel?”

Wyatt and Rufus both turned to her, wide-eyed, as Kennedy choked on his coffee. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, fixing her with narrowed eyes. Lucy sat up straighter in her chair, picking her head up and not shrinking away from his gaze.

Kennedy coughed, nodding at the door, and the team all turned around as the door opened and a beefy man shuffled in, a cigarette between his teeth. Wyatt stiffened, reaching for Lucy’s hand as she recognized the man.

“I trust you’ve met Senator Joseph McCarthy,” Kennedy introduced, knowing all the while that Lucy and Wyatt had indeed met Joe McCarthy. They’d met him about two years ago at this point. “He had all sorts of interesting things to tell me once he got a good look at the two of you in the crowd this morning. Says you’ve time-traveled from the future.” Lucy turned back to meet Kennedy’s gaze. “Says you know about Rittenhouse.”

“Jack,” McCarthy barked, circling around to stand beside him, his eyes not leaving Lucy’s face. “There’s no need to tell them anything. We require information from them, after all.” Wyatt raised an eyebrow at McCarthy.

“And what makes you think we’re going to tell you anything?” he asked, smirking at the two men in front of him. Kennedy and McCarthy exchanged a glance as McCarthy reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun and cocking it.

“You’re going to tell me what you know,” McCarthy began and Wyatt stiffened as he aimed the gun right at Lucy. “Or I’ll shoot your wife.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Wyatt growled, leaning forward in his chair. McCarthy’s finger flexed on the trigger, and he sat back again. “Okay, okay. What do you want to know?”

“Tell us what year you’re from, and how time travel is possible.”

Wyatt glanced at Rufus who shook his head. Wyatt tried to convey silently that he had to say _something_ ; Lucy was in danger. Rufus shook his head again, nodding at Lucy.

“You won’t shoot me,” she muttered, staring down the barrel of the gun. McCarthy chuckled, the gun wavering in his grip for a moment.

“And what makes you so sure, ma'am?” he asked, taking a step closer to her. Wyatt shifted in his seat, but Lucy stayed still, almost smiling up at him.

“Because I’m Rittenhouse, too,” she replied, her head tilted. Both Kennedy and McCarthy frowned down at her, and McCarthy lowered his gun. Lucy nodded, sparing a quick glance at Wyatt. “My name is Lucy Preston, and I am the daughter of Carol Preston and Benjamin Cahill.”

“Little Ben?” McCarthy gasped. He clicked the safety on the gun and quickly pocketed it, reaching forward to take Lucy’s hand. “I apologize, Miss Preston. I had no idea we were in the presence of such greatness.” Lucy bristled at the title, but nodded politely all the same. Kennedy was watching her with narrowed eyes again.

“Miss Preston, tell me, what are you doing in 1956?” Kennedy asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “If Rittenhouse has acquired the time machine, surely you should be somewhere further in the past to fulfill their wishes.”

“Of course, Senator, but given that my husband and our pilot here had no idea of my involvement until just now, I was unable to complete my duties,” Lucy replied, nodding toward Wyatt and Rufus who had been stunned into silence during the entire exchange. McCarthy and Kennedy both looked at the other two men at that, and McCarthy grinned wickedly.

“Well, if these are the time-traveling traitors we’ve been warned about, there’s no need for them anymore.” Lucy sat up straight at that as McCarthy called out for the guards to come in.

“Wait,” she begged as five men entered, hoisting Rufus and Wyatt to their feet. “Please don’t hurt them.”

“You married outside of the organization?” McCarthy hissed, leaning down in Lucy’s face. “How could you _do_ such a thing? What were your parents _thinking_ , approving of such a union? Surely you were promised to a proper Rittenhouse man in order to carry on the strength of your bloodline.” He glanced up at the guards. “Put them downstairs.”

Lucy glared at him as Wyatt and Rufus were hauled out of the room, leaving Lucy alone with the two Rittenhouse operatives.

“Now, Miss Preston,” McCarthy began, turning to Lucy as she watched Wyatt and Rufus being dragged away from her, her eyes wide with terror. She glared at him as he chuckled at her anger. “You’re going to tell us everything Rittenhouse has told you. You’re going to tell us what year you’re from, and you’re going to tell us everything you know about time-travel.” He glanced back at the door, and Lucy followed his gaze, her bottom lip trembling. “Or, I’ll have your husband and pilot killed.”

“Come on now, Joe, there’s no need for theatrics,” Kennedy admonished, stepping in and resting a comforting hand on Lucy’s shoulder. Well, it was meant to be comforting; Lucy merely shrugged it off. “Look, Miss Preston, we just want to know what you know about time travel. That’s all we care about. Your husband and pilot are completely safe.”

Lucy glanced up at Kennedy, returning her gaze to the door Wyatt and Rufus had been dragged out of. She turned back to Kennedy, her eyes watering. “Look, I don’t know a lot about it, okay?” she admitted, her voice quavering. “Rufus would be the better person to answer that question. He’s the pilot and he helped build it.”

Kennedy and McCarthy exchanged a glance, nodding thoughtfully. Lucy bit her lip, watching as McCarthy crouched down in front of her, meeting her at eye-level.

“Miss Preston,” he began, but he never got to finish his sentence.

A loud _thwack_ sounded and Senator Joe McCarthy crumpled to his feet, passed out. Lucy squeaked in surprise, standing up and backing away from his unresponsive body.

“We don’t have much time,” Kennedy gasped, shouldering a nightstick he must have grabbed from one of the guards earlier. “Come with me,” he urged, reaching a hand out to Lucy.

Lucy’s wide-eyed gaze flitted back and forth between McCarthy, lying unconscious at her feet, and Kennedy, still holding his hand out and looking very insistent that she go with him right that moment. She tried to make a plan in her mind as her thoughts bounced all around. She knew she had to find Wyatt and Rufus, had to get back to the Lifeboat, had to get home to see the girls. They had to follow Emma if she decided to leave again. They needed at least four hours to charge the Lifeboat, so if Emma had left while they were here, they wouldn’t be able to follow her.

“Miss Preston,” Kennedy’s urgent voice interrupted her thoughts. “I can take you to your husband, but you need to trust me. The Senator won’t stay like this forever, we don’t have much time. Please,” he pleaded, reaching further toward her. Lucy looked at the hand he offered her, and knew he was right. They had to get out of there.

She took it and they escaped through the door.

* * *

Wyatt fought the guards the entire way downstairs, only finding his voice when they turned the corner and the room Lucy was being held in was no longer visible. She most likely couldn’t even hear him anymore, but he still yelled for her, spitting threats as the guards crowded him and pushed him further down the hallway. Rufus had begun to fight as well, but two guards were able to subdue him. They had to call in reinforcements to get Wyatt into the room with Rufus.

The minute the door shut, Wyatt rushed it, slamming his fists against the hard wood. Rufus winced as his fists collided with the wall instead, the sound resounding through the small room they were now being held in.

“Wyatt,” Rufus called, standing in the corner of the room by the small window, a sliver of sunshine the only source of light. Wyatt ignored him, slamming his fist angrily against the wall again, gasping for breath as he tried to think his way out of this.

He had to get back to Lucy, had to make sure she was safe. He didn’t trust either Kennedy or McCarthy being alone with her. Emma was gone; they should be heading home to their daughters, making sure they hadn’t damaged history too much.

“Hey, Wyatt,” Rufus called again, and Wyatt turned to find Rufus suddenly standing next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “We’ll get her back.”

Wyatt turned to him and the soft smile Rufus offered him did wonders to calm him down. He was continuously thankful for the family he’d found in his team, even though he and Lucy had been married for years and had two children already when they’d first climbed into the Lifeboat.

Wyatt had already loved Lucy with all his heart, but Rufus was like a brother to him; they’d gone through war together, essentially, and no one could ever break that kind of bond. That was why the girls had started calling him ‘Uncle Rufus’ all on their own; they already saw him as family.

“Yeah,” Wyatt whispered, sighing. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Rufus nodded, pulling away and standing back to check out the room.

There wasn’t much. The door Wyatt had viciously attacked was locked. There were most likely guards on the other side to ensure they didn’t escape. Wyatt didn’t have his gun; the guards had frisked him once he’d started yelling. The window wasn’t big enough for either Rufus or Wyatt to escape. Maybe Lucy, if she’d been here, but she was still with Kennedy and McCarthy.

“Wyatt,” a soft voice came from outside the door, and both Rufus and Wyatt rushed the door, Wyatt reaching desperately for the doorknob, trying to get to her.

Keys jangled in the lock and the door was pushed open. Lucy’s small body collided with Wyatt’s instantly and he immediately pressed his lips to hers, so thankful she was safe. He kissed her long and hard, forgetting for the moment that she wasn’t technically _his_ Lucy; she was Lucy, though, and she was safe, and that was all he cared about.

“Are you okay?” he whispered against her lips as he smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. She nodded, looking up at him. “How did you get out?”

“Ah, that would be me,” Kennedy replied, stepping forward, holding up the keys. “This reunion is touching and all, but we really must be getting you back to your ship, mustn’t we?”

Wyatt frowned, glancing between Kennedy and Lucy as she slipped from Wyatt’s hold to throw her arms around Rufus.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” Kennedy assured Wyatt. “I saved your wife, as well as you and your pilot. I just need you to trust me for a bit.” Lucy and Rufus each fell into step beside Wyatt, Lucy reaching for Wyatt’s hand as they waited for his decision. “Shall we?” Kennedy asked, gesturing to the door, the keys jingling in his hand.

“Wyatt, it’s okay,” Lucy urged, her fingers tightening in his. “He wants to stop Rittenhouse, too.”

Wyatt and Rufus both turned to her at that, frowning. They simultaneously looked back at Kennedy who was nodding.

“I’ll explain on the way, but we must get you out of the 50’s and back to where you came from,” Kennedy repeated, nodding toward the open door. Wyatt set his jaw, but gripped Lucy’s hand tightly and pulled her through the doorway after Kennedy, Rufus following closely behind.

* * *

The trek back to the Lifeboat was long, but not nearly as long as Lucy would have liked in order to hear everything she never knew about the Kennedys. They were Rittenhouse.

“My father sat me down when I was fifteen years old and told me all about Rittenhouse,” Kennedy explained as they made their way through the streets of Chicago to the abandoned warehouse they’d stashed the Lifeboat in. “I knew that, as a family organization, I would need to pretend to agree with everything. I had decided then and there that I would be detrimental in bringing it down once and for all.”

“At fifteen?” Lucy repeated, baffled. “How?” Kennedy shrugged, ushering Lucy away from the street in case they were being followed. Kennedy had placed a hat on his head, and was keeping his gaze low, so as not to attract any attention.

“I began attending the meetings, never missed a summit, worked alongside my father, listened to Mr. McCarthy’s teachings.” Wyatt turned back at that, frowning. “Yes, the McCarthys are Rittenhouse as well, which is why our families get along so well, and why he was back there.” Kennedy glanced apologetically between all three time-travelers. “I had intended to speak with you alone, but then he showed up and recognized you two,” he gestured to Lucy and Wyatt, “and told me everything.”

Lucy and Wyatt exchanged a glance and Wyatt fell back to match her pace, placing a comforting hand at the small of her back. Lucy relaxed instantly, as she usually did whenever Wyatt was near. Rufus watched the exchange with a small smile.

“How do you intend to stop them?” Lucy asked, quietly as they made their way out into a run-down part of town and Wyatt tightened his arm around Lucy. Kennedy shrugged, glancing up to make sure they were heading in the right direction.

“I figure they’ll slip up eventually,” he admitted. “And, their master plan for me is to become President and give them the inside scoop on the inner workings of our government. I plan to give them false information and take them down completely by my second term.”

Lucy stiffened at that, and Wyatt glanced down, noticing how pale she’d suddenly become. Rufus studiously avoided Kennedy’s direction, glancing all around as they came to a stop by the warehouse. Kennedy cleared his throat, gesturing to the doors.

“Well, I believe this is where I leave you,” he bade, turning to Lucy and Wyatt. “Be careful, both of you. Rittenhouse is tricky, especially when one of their own marries outside of the organization. I’d hate to read about your deaths someday when I’m old and gray.” Lucy stiffened again and Wyatt reached out to shake Kennedy’s hand.

“You take care of yourself, Mr. Senator,” he urged, squeezing his hand quickly before letting go and ushering Lucy into the warehouse. “Be aware of your surroundings. You never know who could be watching.”

Kennedy nodded and Lucy quickly tugged Wyatt through the warehouse doors that Rufus had already slipped through.

* * *

Moments later, Rufus was strapped into his seat and firing up the Lifeboat. “Emma’s been back for about four hours now. We should head back before Agent Christopher or Mason get worried.”

“Or Jiya?” Wyatt added, smirking at his friend. Rufus’ ears perked up as he cleared his throat and began setting up the Lifeboat. Both Lucy and Wyatt chuckled as Wyatt reached over to buckle her in. “Luce, why didn’t you warn him?” he asked quietly, looking up at her softly. Lucy sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I honestly think he already knows,” she admitted as Wyatt leaned back in his seat and buckled himself in as the Lifeboat started to shake. “I just wonder how involved Rittenhouse was in his death, and how much he knew before they killed him.”

Wyatt nodded, and then promptly shut his eyes as the Lifeboat whirred and shook violently, shooting them from the past and back into their present. He let out a deep breath as he opened his eyes to make sure his team was alright.

Rufus had already climbed out of the Lifeboat and Lucy was steadily unbuckling herself, scooting forward to help Wyatt get his bearings.

“We’re fine!” he heard Rufus call out as he jumped down from the Lifeboat.

Wyatt and Lucy stumbled out next, holding onto each other as they slid down the front. Wyatt reached up and helped Lucy down, gently setting her on the ground.

Two small voices cried out as each of them was met with the force of a small girl wrapping their arms around them. Wyatt crouched to scoop Amelia into his arms as Lucy picked Layla up, wrapping her arms around the small girl, cradling her head against her shoulder.

“Thank god,” someone whispered and the family of four turned to watch as Jiya rushed toward Rufus, throwing her arms around him and kissing him full on the mouth.

“ _Eww_ ,” the girls squealed, sliding down from their parents’ arms and covering their eyes, making faces at the couple. Jiya and Rufus separated, laughing down at the girls’ reaction.

“You know, your parents do it too,” Jiya reminded the girls. Layla and Amelia turned to Lucy and Wyatt, horrified.

“She’s right,” Lucy told them, giggling as Wyatt pulled her in, kissing her firmly. Even after all the times he’d kissed her recently, it was still enough to make Lucy’s knees go weak.

“No, no,” two small voices echoed as Lucy felt small hands pressing insistently on her legs, trying to push her away from Wyatt. Wyatt pulled her closer, chuckling as the girls continued to attempt to drive them apart.

“Daddy, _stop_ it!” Layla cried, opting to push on Wyatt’s legs instead. She quickly realized that was getting nowhere, and leaned back on Lucy’s legs, throwing all of her weight into making Lucy stumble.

“Okay, okay,” Lucy sighed against Wyatt’s lips, pulling away to scoop Layla up into her arms again. Layla giggled happily, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck, her small fists clutching the fabric of Lucy’s blouse.

“Mom, are you going to change out of your funny clothes?” Amelia asked, gently tugging on Lucy’s hand. Lucy nodded, gently ushering Amelia to the wardrobe dock with her, Layla still wrapped tightly against her.

Wyatt watched them go, smiling softly. The girls were safe, Lucy was safe; that’s all that mattered.

* * *

Later that night, after the girls had brushed their teeth and changed into pajamas and given their parents a kiss on the cheek - much to little Layla’s dismay, she’d been attacked with kisses once more when she protested because kissing was 'gross’ - Lucy and Wyatt fell back into bed with a laptop perched between them, double-checking that nothing had changed in history.

“Kennedy still gets shot,” Lucy breathed, glancing at Wyatt. “And it’s still Oswald that shoots him. Do you think he’s Rittenhouse?” Wyatt shrugged.

“I’m not sure _what_ to think anymore, Luce,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand down his face. Lucy nodded, closing her laptop and gently setting it on her bedside table. “Hey,” he whispered suddenly, catching her wrist and pulling her back toward him. She turned, settling into his arms. “Are you _sure_ we weren’t together in your timeline?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Lucy sighed, gazing up at Wyatt, feeling that familiar pang in her chest as she reminded herself that this wasn’t _her_ Wyatt and she wasn’t _his_ Lucy. But, he looked at her the same, and she wanted that back. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as her eyes locked with his. “I love you so much, Wyatt.”

Wyatt understood this was a big deal for Lucy and he quickly reached up to stroke her cheek softly. “But you never told me,” he guessed quietly, and she shook her head, sniffling slightly. “Why?”

Lucy sighed, raking a hand through her hair. “There was someone else,” she replied simply. It was almost true, she reasoned. Her Wyatt was still hung up on his dead wife, something this Wyatt had never known because Lucy had been his one and only wife. Wyatt frowned down at her.

“For you?” he asked quietly. Lucy gently shook her head, and she felt Wyatt stiffen, tightening his arms around her. “For me,” he realized, and Lucy turned to meet his gaze. His eyes were steely, determined. “That’s not possible,” he said firmly, and Lucy scoffed.

“Actually, it’s very possible,” Lucy mumbled, nodding emphatically. “And, true, might I add.” Wyatt shook his head, his eyes not leaving hers.

“No, there’s no one else for me,” he insisted. Lucy opened her mouth to argue with him, but he continued, pulling her closer. “No, Lucy, there is no one else for me. Don’t you see that?” he asked, his voice breaking. Lucy frowned at him, and he shifted so his hands were gripping her arms, gazing intently into her eyes as he tried to make her see. “The fact that there are two _entirely separate_ timelines where we end up in each other’s lives is proof enough that I was _always_ meant to find you.”

Lucy’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes at his words. She was reminded of when her Wyatt had said almost the exact same thing to her in another timeline, before she lost him. She sniffled, a tear sliding down her cheek, and Wyatt gently brushed it away as he continued to stare at her.

“You said the same thing,” she whimpered, more tears escaping. “Before I left, in the other timeline. I was worried that you’d forget me.” Wyatt nodded slowly, brushing her tears away as they continued to fall.

“I said the same thing here, too,” he replied, and Lucy frowned softly. “I guess you’re just a true worrier no matter what,” he joked and Lucy gave a watery chuckle as he smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks, catching her tears as they fell. “Lucy,” he breathed her name, and she felt her breath catch as she fought to control her tears, to calm herself down. “I love you, too,” he whispered, and she stopped crying all at once, her eyes widening as she focused on her breathing. “I know I’m not _him_ ,” he continued, his voice a bit stronger, wavering slightly. “And, you’re not _her_ ,” his voice broke, and Lucy reached up to rest her hand on his cheek, attempting to comfort him. He leaned into her touch, sighing against her hand, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at her. “But, I still love you with all that I am.”

His eyes held the utmost sincerity, and Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat as she placed her other hand on Wyatt’s cheek, framing his face. He loved _her_. He loved her even though he knew she wasn’t the same Lucy. He loved her even though his real wife was lost to him forever since they couldn’t risk erasing the girls.

And, she loved him.

With all the times she’d kissed Wyatt, especially most recently, _she_ had never kissed him; _he_ had always kissed _her_.

But, Lucy craved control.

She slowly leaned in, her eyes falling shut as she closed the space between them. He breathed her in as their lips parted almost immediately, the kiss suddenly growing heated.

Wyatt pulled her closer as he lay back on the bed and she followed, her leg hooking over his hip as she hovered over him, her hands spread out against his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath her fingertips. She sighed as he ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her roughly.

His hand moved from her hair to spread out against her back, shifting her shirt up and brushing the skin at the small of her back as he bunched her shirt in his hand. She felt him stiffen suddenly, unsure if that was okay, and she quietly reassured him by gently tugging his t-shirt up, separating her mouth from his to pull it up over his head. Her hands smoothed over the strong planes of his chest and he moaned at her touch, gripping her waist tightly and flipping her over.

Lucy squeaked as her back collided with the mattress but the sound was quickly swallowed by another toe-curling kiss as Wyatt inched her shirt up, his fingertips brushing against her tummy, making her jump. He chuckled against her mouth at her sudden movement and continued moving his hands up her shirt.

Lucy knew they couldn’t change anything. She would never risk the girls’ lives, and she was beginning to get used to living with this Wyatt. He wasn’t _her_ Wyatt, but he was close enough. And he kissed her the same way her Wyatt did, from what she could remember. And his touch elicited the same reaction.

She made her decision as Wyatt pulled her nightshirt up over her head, covering her body with his own, his hands mapping out every new piece of skin.

She loved him. She loved the girls.

This was her home, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually intended for this to end in a different way but Lucy and Wyatt wanted to bang so *shrug*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter (which was supposed to be up on Sunday night) is dedicated to LivingInSmilesIsBetter because the comments you made while legit bingeing this fic absolutely made my day and motivated me to write something faster than I'd originally intended. 
> 
> I definitely pay attention to every single comment made, both on here and on fanfiction.net, and this is actually how last chapter was kind of supposed to end (but Lucy and Wyatt wanted to bang instead and you know how they can be).

Lucy could count on one hand the amount of times she’d truly felt at peace since jumping into a time machine six months ago.

After finally making it home safely from 1754, she’d sat in a booth with her team, having drinks and reading about potential (fake) alien sightings during the French and Indian War.

There had been that familiar feeling of dread, nestled in the pit of her stomach, regarding the journal that Flynn claimed was hers, and that small voice in the back of her head, pondering whether it really _could_ be true, and what if she was meant to be _helping_ Flynn? What if Flynn, and that damn journal, were right about everything? What if she no longer had any control over her life?

Wyatt had worked to soothe those fears, telling her that it was up to her; _she_ could make the choice. It had instantly reminded her of Amy’s last words to her: make your own future. The sense of calm that had washed over her at his words was unlike anything she’d felt since she’d climbed out of the Lifeboat that first time and realized her sister wasn’t there anymore.

When Flynn had taken her in 1778, hauled her up into the Mothership with Wyatt’s name on her lips, it was like being in that car all over again. Every moment afterward had been the epitome of drowning, until Houdini picked the right lock and the door opened and there they were. As soon as Wyatt’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her head into the crook of his neck, she had relaxed. She’d breathed him in, pulling away to make sure he was alright as well.

Once she’d been reunited for the second time with her team, after being captured by H.H. Holmes, she’d never felt more relieved than she had at that moment. They’d gotten the team back.

After Wyatt had been arrested upon arriving in 2017 after his joyride with the Lifeboat to 1983, Lucy had almost lost it. Their soldier was gone; how were she and Rufus expected to carry on like nothing had happened? How were they supposed to go to 1927 and not worry about their friend and teammate?

Lucy’s head hadn’t been all the way in the game during that trip, what with finding out her biological father’s identity, and that his family was apparently pure blood according to Charles Lindbergh. She had also been extremely worried about Wyatt. What kind of jail could they put him in when he’d stolen a _time machine_?

The minute he had shuffled down the steps in the same jacket he’d left her house in not twenty-four hours earlier, she’d run straight at him, throwing her arms around his neck, relieved to see that he was okay. Holding him in her arms, feeling his own wrapped around her as he sighed against her hair, had given her a peace she hadn’t been familiar of in quite some time. It was different than worrying about a friend in trouble; she had been _terrified_ for Wyatt, for his safety. She felt like she could only breathe again once he was there, in that warehouse in Oakland, holding onto her just as tightly as she held on to him.

And, of course, every time Wyatt buckled her in, she felt a sense of peace that rivaled all the others. She felt safe, secure, and knew that nothing bad could happen to her as long as he was there, sitting across from her, offering a sly smirk to calm her nerves about traveling through time. If Wyatt was there, she was safe. That was just the truth that she’d come to known through their travels together.

Laying in bed in an alternate timeline, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed evenly, lost in a deep sleep, was surprisingly just as peaceful. Her head moved with his body, their legs still entangled beneath the sheets that just barely covered their naked bodies. Her fingertips smoothed the small frown lines set in his face. This Wyatt seemed so much older, more weary, and she held back a giggle as she realized that having kids must have done that to him.

Her hands moved from his face to comb through his hair, brushing the soft strands back. His eyes fluttered, and she rested her hand on his cheek as they slowly opened, his mouth quirking into a small smile as his eyes met hers.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered, teasing. She huffed a laugh as he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand before he reached up and took her hand in his, sitting up a bit and tucking her into his side.

“How did you sleep?” she asked breathlessly. He leaned down to kiss her gently, lingering.

“Better with you by my side,” he whispered, pulling back and smiling down at her. She chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully.

“You and your cliches,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek before snuggling down into his arms, her cheek pressed against his heart.

It was still early, too early for the sun to be up yet, and Lucy and Wyatt simply lay in bed, trading kisses as the birds began to sing their morning song. Amelia had school that day, so she needed to be up and ready to go by eight, but if memory served correctly, the girls would both be up within the hour.

She sighed, holding on to Wyatt. She liked this life; she _wanted_ this life. Why shouldn’t she just accept it? After all the trouble that damn time machine had caused, why couldn’t she just enjoy this new life? She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t risk the girls. She already loved them too much.

“What are you thinking about?” Wyatt whispered, his lips brushing against her hair. She smiled, turning to him.

“Tell me about the girls,” she said, her eyes shining. Wyatt frowned, tilting his head to rest on top of hers. “What were their first words?” Lucy wanted to learn everything she could about this new life, wanted to drink in all the information she could so that she could pretend that this was really her life all along. Wyatt smiled, lost in a memory.

“Amelia’s first word was ‘book’,” he muttered, chuckling. Lucy giggled. “Yeah, I’m not kidding. You had just written your first book, about John Wilkes Booth, and you and I were talking about your decision of going on a book tour to release it in colleges across America.” Lucy nodded, watching as he frowned softly, staring off into space. “We were kind of fighting. You said you didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave Lia, but that book wouldn’t have been published and released if you didn’t go, and I knew how badly you wanted to be published like your mom. I was telling you to go, that Lia would still be here when you got back.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling, and Lucy held her breath, still startled by how _beautiful_ Wyatt was. “And Lia, not even a year old yet, waddled into the room, tugged on your pant leg, and just said, 'book’.” Wyatt paused, sucking in a breath as he glanced back down at her. “And that was how you knew you had to go. So, Lia and I helped you pack and you left the next day.” Lucy frowned, watching him.

“Just like that?” she asked. “How long was I gone for?” Wyatt shook his head, shrugging.

“Eh, you were only gone for about a week. You were supposed to be gone longer, but you made them end it after Lia started saying 'dada’,” Wyatt laughed, Lucy’s eyes widening in surprise. “They published your book in college bookstores on the west coast, and your mother got them to put it in Stanford’s bookstore. This was before you started teaching for them.”

“I can’t believe she said 'dada’ first,” Lucy muttered, frowning. Wyatt laughed, his body shaking as he nudged her. “What about Layla? What was her first word?”

“Lia,” he murmured, grinning as he watched Lucy throw her hands up in exasperation.

“So neither of these kids had the decency to say, 'mama’ first?” Lucy huffed, crossing her arms and leaning into Wyatt’s shoulder, pouting. “Ungrateful,” she muttered. Wyatt barked a laugh and kissed her temple.

“Layla’s second word was 'mama’,” he assured her. “I was on a mission for her developing days,” he explained. “I wasn’t home enough for her to say 'dada’ first.” Lucy nodded, satisfied that at least one of her daughters appreciated her enough to say her name before Wyatt’s.

“Well, the next kid will have to say 'mama’ as soon as they start making sounds,” Lucy mumbled, and Wyatt froze as he realized what she’d just said. “Oh,” Lucy whispered, sitting up as she realized as well. “Wait, I mean, I didn’t mean,” she floundered as Wyatt grinned back at her, loving seeing her flustered. “Stop looking at me like that,” she huffed, her cheeks coloring.

“Luce, it’s fine,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead, pulling her close, his fingers curled into her hair. “I know this is all new for you, so I understand if you don’t want to talk about that right now.” Lucy looked up at him, frowning softly.

“Was that actually something we talked about?” she asked, shifting in his arms. He sighed, looking down, and she sucked in a breath. “Oh,” she whispered, the severity of their situation sinking in once more.

So, not only had Wyatt lost his real wife, but they had talked about having more kids, and Lucy was in no way comfortable with continuing that conversation at the moment. She had only _just_ accepted that this was her life now.

“How about we get changed, get the girls up, and make pancakes before we take Lia to school?” Wyatt suggested, leaning down to kiss Lucy. Lucy nodded, kissing him again before he got up. She lay back in bed, grinning as he picked his pajama pants up from the floor. “I can feel you checking me out,” he teased, turning back to Lucy as he pulled his pants back on.

“You’re my husband,” Lucy replied breathlessly, smirking. Wyatt grinned, his eyes lighting up again as he walked back to the bed, leaning over her.

“That’s right,” he whispered, kissing her hard. Lucy sighed, her hand resting on his cheek.

“Okay,” she whispered against his lips between kisses. “But, you promised pancakes,” she reminded him. “And this delays that.” He chuckled, pressing one more quick kiss to her lips before heading into their bathroom to get changed.

* * *

Making pancakes was surprisingly uneventful. The girls were just happy to see that Wyatt was up and about again, though he did wince a few times when he had to reach the taller shelves. Layla followed him like a shadow, clinging to his leg. It would’ve been comical if Lucy didn’t know how often the girls thought Wyatt would one day leave for a mission and not return.

“Dad, are we doing chocolate chips or sprinkles?” Amelia asked, her nose covered in pancake batter from where Lucy had booped her earlier. Lucy glanced at Wyatt, squinting.

“Mom is telepathically telling me both,” Wyatt replied, scooping Layla up from his leg and sitting her on his shoulders as she squealed with laughter. “So, both is good.” Amelia grinned and lunged for the bag of chocolate chips.

“Whoa, whoa,” Lucy stopped her, grabbing the bag before she dumped the entire thing in. “Please use a cup, Lia,” she told her, handing her a measuring cup. Amelia sighed but took the cup, carefully scooping out a cupful of chocolate chips and dropping it into the batter. “Now stir it up. I’ll do the sprinkles,” Lucy instructed as she unscrewed the top to the sprinkles and began sprinkling them in as Amelia stirred. “Aunt Amy and I used to make these when we were your age,” she said, smiling down at Amelia. “We called them chocolate confetti pancakes.”

“Really? You were my age?” Amelia asked, tilting her head up at her mother. Lucy and Wyatt laughed, exchanging a look.

“Yeah, and Aunt Amy was Layla’s age once,” Lucy replied, gesturing to Layla who had buried her fingers in her father’s hair, still wet from his shower, and was pulling it up into stiff peaks, making Wyatt look like he’d been electrocuted. Lucy laughed as Layla grinned at her mother. “And she was just as mischievous,” Lucy teased, plucking Layla from Wyatt’s shoulders and rubbing their noses together. Layla giggled as Lucy kissed her little cheeks, placing her on her hip.

“What’s that mean?” Amelia asked, frowning up at her father as he looked over the batter, then began moving the bowl closer to the stove.

“Mischievous,” Wyatt repeated, glancing down at Amelia as he scooped a cup of batter and dropped it into the sizzling pan to cook. “What’s the root word?” Lucy paused, watching Amelia as she scrunched up her face, looking like the spitting image of Lucy when she tried to concentrate.

“Mischief,” Amelia replied, and Lucy gasped, shocked that she’d even known what 'root word’ _meant_. “So, Aunt Amy caused mischief. She was a troublemaker?” she asked Lucy for clarification and she nodded dumbly. Wyatt chuckled at Lucy’s reaction, raising his eyebrows at her as if to say, _yeah, our daughter is kind of brilliant_.

“Do I cause miss stuff?” Layla babbled and Lucy giggled, kissing her on the head, holding her close. Wyatt shook his head, chuckling as Layla frowned at both her parents.

“No, baby,” Lucy whispered, kissing Layla on the cheek to reassure her. “You don’t cause mischief, I was just teasing.”

“You gave me this awesome hairdo,” Wyatt reasoned, pointing up at his extremely spiky hair and Lucy laughed as she realized just how ridiculous he looked. Layla seemed pleased, though, and she smiled as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek as well before returning to the pancakes.

“I have made a decision,” Layla declared as Wyatt slid the next pancake onto the stack of three he’d already made. Amelia laughed at her sister’s choice of words and walked over to her mother, resting her chin on her sister’s knee.

“What’s that?” Amelia prompted, looking up at her baby sister. Layla cleared her throat, her face screwing up in thought, looking more like Wyatt when he tried to concentrate. Layla was definitely a miniature Wyatt.

“I have decided that kissing isn’t yucky,” she revealed, and Lucy and Wyatt feigned shock while Amelia truly gasped, stepping back. “I know, I know,” she began, reaching out a hand to placate Amelia and Lucy held back her laughter as Layla continued. “But, I like when Mommy kisses me because it makes me happy, and I like when Daddy kisses me because it makes me laugh.” She paused, reaching out to pat Wyatt’s cheek. “His kisses are fuzzy,” she giggled. Lucy did laugh at that, and Wyatt turned his head to kiss Layla’s hand. Layla squealed and drew her hand back. “So, I think when Mommy and Daddy kiss each other, it’s because it makes them happy,” Layla reasoned, and Lucy was struck again by just how _brilliant_ both her girls were. “And if it makes them happy, then it shouldn’t bother us.”

Amelia shrugged, knowing her sister was right but not wanting to admit it. Stubborn. Just like her mother.

“That is big-girl thinking, Layla,” Wyatt muttered as he put two pancakes on her plate and began cutting them up.

“If I’m a big girl, can I use a big-girl fork like Lia and Mommy?” she asked in a small voice, her hands folded together nicely. Wyatt chuckled and pulled a metal fork out for her as Lucy set her in her booster seat at the table.

“Of course, princess,” he murmured, placing the pancakes in front of her and handing her the fork. Layla giggled, taking the fork and immediately stabbing at her pancakes. Lucy winced, watching Layla’s every move carefully.

They all ate quickly, chatting about Layla’s revelation and Amelia’s upcoming school day. Wyatt suggested they invite Aunt Jiya and Uncle Rufus over later since Layla hadn’t seen Uncle Rufus in a while, and Layla immediately shoved the rest of her pancakes into her mouth, thinking that if she ate faster and got ready sooner, they’d be there quicker.

Lucy looked over Amelia’s homework like she said she was going to a few nights ago as Amelia got dressed and ready for school. Wyatt helped Layla out of her booster seat and upstairs to clean her up while Lucy settled into the big armchair by the window, reading Amelia’s paper about Abraham Lincoln.

“Is it okay?”

Lucy looked up, startled, finding Amelia dressed and ready to go, her backpack slung over her shoulder, nervously twiddling her thumbs. She grinned at her daughter.

“Lia, this is wonderful,” Lucy assured her, and Amelia sagged with relief, smiling softly. “I especially love your extensive vocabulary. This is an extremely impressive paper for a third-grader,” Lucy admitted, handing the blue folder to Amelia, who zipped it up into her backpack, slinging the other strap over her other shoulder.

“Thanks, Mom,” Amelia muttered before opening the door. “Tell Dad I’ll be in the car,” she called out as she closed the door behind her.

Wyatt bounded down the stairs moments later, grabbing the car keys from the hook by the door. “I’ll go drop Lia off if you want to go help the other little princess pick out her outfit for today.” Lucy stood, making her way to the stairs. “When I left her, she was deciding if she should wear the pink tutu and the purple cowgirl boots or the green tutu and the bunny ears.” Lucy blew air through her cheeks as she hurried upstairs, hoping to catch her daughter before she got glitter from the tutu all over her room.

* * *

Since starting to chase Emma through time so soon after catching Flynn, days off were few and far between, so when they did happen, Wyatt and Lucy would invite Rufus and Jiya over and they’d have a nice relaxing day without worrying about Emma.

They had figured since Emma had left so abruptly afterward and hadn’t taken the Mothership out again yet, maybe she was getting something together. Lucy and Jiya swapped ideas, but nothing stood out as anything extreme.

Layla was playing dress-up with Rufus while Wyatt made burgers on the grill. She would giggle and squeal every now and then, placing mittens on his ears or a crown around his neck, ecstatic when he would strike a random pose and all the clothing items would fall off and she’d have to start all over, putting a tutu on his head and hanging necklaces from his ears.

“What about the Rosenbergs?” Jiya suggested, and Lucy frowned thoughtfully.

“That would make sense, actually,” Wyatt spoke up from the kitchen, and Lucy turned around to tilt her head at him. “They were spies, Lucy, I know spies.” Lucy shook her head.

“No, you know James Bond,” she corrected him and Jiya laughed. Rufus glanced over, struggling to stay still as Layla stuck her little tongue out in concentration, carefully draping beaded necklaces on Rufus’ ears.

“Yeah, remember when he hit on Lucy?” Rufus teased Wyatt, grinning as the tips of his ears colored. Jiya chuckled, noticing Wyatt’s reaction.

“You told me about that,” she turned to Rufus. “How he wouldn’t let up so Wyatt finally had to tell him that they were married but it was supposed to be this big secret because they weren’t allowed to date within the agency.” Rufus frowned as Jiya turned back to Lucy. “You guys inspired that movie, 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith’, I think.”

“We did?” Lucy asked incredulously. Jiya frowned, and Lucy quickly recovered. “I didn’t know we inspired that movie,” she clarified. Jiya nodded slowly.

“Mommy,” Layla whispered in her small voice, having at some point run over to Lucy. She tugged on Lucy’s pant leg, looking up at her. “Can you tell the pregnant story again?”

“The what?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide as she gazed down at her daughter who was now giggling uncontrollably. Wyatt quickly made his way into the room, placing the plate of burgers on the table and signaling everyone to dig in.

“The proposal story, babe,” Wyatt covered for her. “Remember, she calls it the pregnant story because of how you responded.” Lucy nodded dumbly as Layla nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, Daddy, tell the pregnant story!” she squealed as Lucy handed her a plain cheeseburger to avoid a mess. Rufus had carefully removed every piece of jewelry and was now sitting at the table as well, taking a bite out of his cheeseburger.

“Yeah, tell the pregnant story,” he encouraged and Jiya giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Lucy glanced at Wyatt who chuckled as he sat down at the table.

_October 11, 2009_

Lucy giggled as Wyatt dragged her down the busy street, dodging people and cars alike as he made his way to a certain spot. He wouldn’t tell her where they were going, only that it was very important that they get there today. She hadn’t said anything against it; when Wyatt got like this, you just had to let him go.

He finally paused, turning to her. She looked around; they were next to a traffic light, and a small bench was underneath a store window a few feet away. She moved toward the bench, but he pulled her back.

“It’s here, it’s right here,” he muttered, and she nodded, frowning at him. “You know I love you, right?” he asked her, his eyes shining. Lucy sucked in a breath, but nodded all the same, suddenly wary of where this conversation was headed. “And, I’ll always love you, no matter what.” Lucy nodded again, smiling softly as she squeezed his hand.

“And I love you, silly,” she promised him. He smiled at her, reaching into his pocket as he dropped to the ground.

On one knee.

Lucy’s heart pounded as he let go of her hand and opened a small ring box, revealing a perfect diamond ring.

“Lucy Preston,” he spoke, his voice wavering as he smiled up at her. “Will you marry me?”

Lucy stood there, completely shocked. “What?” she whispered, tears in her eyes. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Will you marry me?” he repeated and Lucy still couldn’t wrap her head around the question. Why now? Why today? Why here?

“Are you pregnant?” she asked incredulously and Wyatt laughed again, closing the ring box and taking her hand in his. He gently tugged her down so she was kneeling in front of him and squeezed her hand.

“No, Luce, I’m not pregnant,” he chuckled. Then he sat up straight, his eyes widening slightly. “Wait, are _you_ pregnant?” Lucy shook her head immediately.

“No,” she answered. “No, I don’t think so.”

She was, actually, but neither of them had any way of knowing that just yet; it had only been a few days.

Wyatt smiled at her, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. She grinned through her tears, completely ecstatic.

“So, you’re kind of leaving me hanging here,” Wyatt prompted, teasing her. Lucy giggled, tugging him closer and kissing him hard. People were surprisingly unfazed by this sudden turn of events on a sidewalk in San Francisco, walking around the couple as they kissed once more in the middle of a crowded street.

Wyatt pulled away to slip the ring on Lucy’s finger and tears filled her eyes again as she looked down at the ring on her finger. She was engaged to Wyatt Logan.

“Why here?” she asked softly and he chuckled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“This is where I fell in love with you,” he explained. “It was November 1st, three weeks after we met in your mom’s class, and we were getting a bite to eat right down the street after you helped me write that history paper.” Lucy nodded, remembering. “I walked you down to this little bakery on the corner, and you got a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting.”

“You got a lemon cupcake,” Lucy whispered and Wyatt nodded smiling, his fingertips brushing the strands of her hair from her face as the San Francisco breeze blew around them.

“Your hair was longer, then,” he remembered. “I kissed you at the corner of the street, while we were supposed to be crossing.” He pointed to the stoplight. “And, that’s when I knew that I was done,” he explained and Lucy frowned slightly. “I knew you were it for me, Lucy. I knew you were the only one I was going to spend the rest of my life loving.”

“If you knew then,” Lucy began, teasing. “Why didn’t you ask me that day?” Wyatt laughed, shaking his head.

“Come on, that’s a little weird,” he pointed out. “We had only just kissed. There are rules about this kind of stuff.” He tilted his head to the side. “Plus, I had to figure out if you loved me, too.” Lucy smiled as her eyes filled with tears again, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek.

“Wyatt Logan,” she began, “I have loved you since the day I met you.” She took a deep breath. “You’re the real reason I didn’t go with Evan.” Wyatt stiffened at that, and she realized she’d never told him.

He kissed her again.

* * *

Layla giggled and clapped as her father finished telling the story. Lucy was absolutely speechless as Jiya gushed about how much she loved hearing that story over and over again. Both Wyatt and Rufus glanced at her warily, knowing full well that was the first time she’d ever heard that story.

“I should pick up Lia,” Wyatt said, gathering all the plates and placing them in the sink. Lucy was still frozen, staring into space. Jiya perked up, helping Layla out of her booster seat.

“Can I come? I haven’t seen Lia in a while,” Jiya asked, hugging Layla close. Wyatt nodded and Jiya and Layla followed Wyatt out to the car, leaving Lucy and Rufus alone.

“Lucy,” Rufus began, but Lucy stood from her chair heading for the stairs. Rufus sighed, getting up and following her. “Luce, come on. What are you doing?”

“We can’t go back, Rufus,” Lucy reminded him, turning around as she reached the top of the stairs. Rufus sighed, his shoulders sinking. “I can’t get our Wyatt back,” she paused, tears filling her eyes. “And, I like this one,” she whispered.

“I know, Lucy, I do,” he reasoned. “But, it’s not right. We need to fix history, change it back.” Rufus took a couple steps up the stairs. “You know as well as I do that Wyatt doesn’t feel any differently about you back in our original timeline. Wyatt loves you, Lucy, you _know_ he does.”

Lucy shook her head slowly. “This Wyatt hasn’t had a Jessica. This Wyatt loves me _now_ , always has, and dammit Rufus, I _want_ that.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I know that’s selfish of me, but so be it. This time machine has screwed up so many things for me, but for once, it’s done something good. Can’t I just enjoy that?”

Rufus didn’t respond, and she knew she’d won. He knew she was right; the time machine had all but ruined Lucy’s life. In this timeline, her mother wasn’t breathing down her neck, her sister was back, and she had a husband who was desperately in love with her and two beautiful little girls. As far as alternate timelines went, this could have been worse.

“Plus, we can’t risk the girls,” Lucy reminded him and Rufus stiffened, looking up at Lucy. “I _won’t_ risk the girls.” Rufus nodded, agreeing with her.

“Okay,” he mumbled and Lucy visibly relaxed, resting her hand on the railing. “So, this is your life now, then.” Lucy nodded.

“Yes,” she said, taking a deep breath. “This is my life now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the next chapter drafted, but I'm extended all through the week at DSW again, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to edit and post it. 
> 
> Possibly Sunday.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this a few days ago but I've been so busy with work (and some interviews for more work because I'm crazy) that I've only just now gotten the chance to sit down and update. I think I've finally found my 'zone' for this story, so updates might be more often just because I'm having so much fun writing this! I want to write it all the time. 
> 
> I just really want to thank everyone who reads and comments (or reads and doesn't comment; I was once one of you) on this story. The comments absolutely make my day and I love love love hearing all your thoughts about the characterization and the direction this story is going. 
> 
> I do feel the need to reiterate that this will have a happy ending. I promise.

The vacation was short-lived.

About forty-five minutes after Wyatt, Layla, Amelia, and Jiya returned home, Agent Christopher called the team in, and they were all back in their respective cars, the girls with their backpacks and in their pajamas, on their way to Mason Industries.

“Where’d she go?” Lucy called out as soon as she set foot in the conference room, Layla on her hip, her small arms wrapped around her mother’s neck.

“January 19, 1961,” Agent Christopher replied. “Jiya, can you find out where she is?” Jiya nodded and headed straight to the computers. Lucy frowned, holding Layla close as she glanced at Wyatt, who had Amelia’s hand clutched in his own. 1961. Kennedy was President.

Wait.

Kennedy _became_ President.

“She’s after Kennedy again,” Lucy breathed, glancing between Wyatt and Rufus. “January 19, 1961. Kennedy’s about to be inaugurated as the President of the United States.” Lucy turned back to Agent Christopher. “It’s the night before the inauguration. Kennedy and his wife Jackie are attending a pre-inaugural ball.” Layla’s head perked up from Lucy’s shoulder at that, her curls bouncing wildly as her eyes widened with excitement.

“Mommy, you’re going to a _ball_? Like Cinderella?” she whispered, grinning. Lucy giggled, nodding. Agent Christopher smiled gently at Layla before turning back to Lucy.

“If you’re sure that’s where she’ll be, why don’t you three go get changed. I’ll have Jiya prepare the Lifeboat.” Lucy nodded and the team left for the wardrobe dock, Lucy and Wyatt with one girl each.

As soon as they set foot in the wardrobe dock, Layla started squirming and Amelia began pulling on Wyatt’s hand, trying to get away. Lucy laughed as she set Layla down and both girls took off running.

“Stay in the 1960s!” Wyatt called out as he watched them go. He slung his arm around Lucy’s shoulders, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “So, will there be dancing at this ball?” Lucy laughed, holding his hand.

“If you play your cards right,” she teased before untangling herself from his hold to chase after the girls. Wyatt watched her go, and Rufus smiled as he realized how in-love-with-Lucy this poor guy was.

There was absolutely _no_ difference between how this Wyatt acted compared to the Wyatt they’d left behind; he stood by what he’d said to Lucy earlier about Wyatt loving her just as much. She was right about him loving her more openly in this timeline, though. Rufus only knew that the other Wyatt loved Lucy because the three time-travelers spent nearly every waking minute together, and it was hard to be privy to all that sexual tension and not notice lingering looks. It was like watching a damn soap opera.

This Wyatt had never known the heartbreak of Jessica, had never felt conflicted over his obvious feelings for their historian. Rufus could understand why Lucy would want to stay in this timeline. She seemed truly happy running around the wardrobe dock with the girls, picking out random outfits from the 60s as the girls played Fairy Godmother and helped her get ready for the ball.

“Mommy, I like this one!” Layla tugged on the skirt of a full-length black sleeveless dress with a beaded empire waist and Lucy tilted her head, examining it.

“I like that one, too,” Wyatt suddenly breathed in her ear, making her jump. She shoved him playfully as she pulled the dress from the rack, examining it carefully.

“It’s going to be January in D.C., though,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I’ll freeze.” Wyatt wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he murmured, kissing her cheek. Lucy giggled as Amelia pulled a white coat from the racks.

“Or you could use this,” she suggested, handing the coat to Lucy. Lucy laughed as she took the coat from her daughter. “I’ve seen pictures of Jackie Kennedy on Inauguration Day. I’ll go find you some gloves.” Amelia took Layla’s hand and they rushed off to find more things for Lucy.

“Did I just get cockblocked by my own daughter?” Wyatt asked incredulously and Lucy laughed, nodding at Wyatt’s shocked expression.

“Dude,” Rufus exclaimed, rushing over to them, grinning. “Did you see what your brilliant daughter picked out for us?” Wyatt shook his head and Rufus shivered with excitement as he held up a black tuxedo.

“It’s a tuxedo,” Wyatt deadpanned, then examined it closely, his eyes slowly widening as he recognized it. “Wait, no way,” he whispered, taking the tuxedo from Rufus. “Is this really-”

“It’s the spitting image of the tuxedo Connery wears in _Dr. No_!” Rufus exclaimed. “And there’s _two_ of them!” Lucy laughed as both men freaked out over their tuxedos. Layla came running up, her hands behind her back, stopping short next to Rufus, twirling in her nightgown.

“What’ve you got, baby?” Lucy prompted, knowing the small girl was chomping at the bit to show them what she’d found. She grinned, holding out a pair of glasses, looking up at Rufus.

“I found these for you, Uncle Rufus,” Layla explained, holding them high above her head to push them into his hands. He chuckled, patting her on the head before taking the glasses from her.

“Thanks, kid,” he replied, and Lucy smiled at how easily the girls interacted with him. They were like one big happy family. She decided then that it wouldn’t be hard pretending this timeline was her life.

“And, I found gloves and shoes for you, Mom,” Amelia called out, rushing over and pushing them into Lucy’s hands. “Miss Denise looks a little impatient,” she hedged, nodding back to where Agent Christopher was discussing something with Connor.

“Point taken,” Lucy whispered as she nodded at both men and they all went their separate ways to get changed.

* * *

The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her curves in all the right places. The fabric was gentle and silky, and the coat was soft and warm. She’d styled her hair into a simple bouffant that flipped out at the ends, pinning her hair back with a black beaded barrette. Lucy shuffled out of the changing room, pulling her gloves on as Wyatt and Rufus looked up at her.

Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the amount of love and need that always shone in Wyatt’s eyes every time he looked at her, and she was perfectly okay with that.

He stood up from the bench he’d been sitting on with Rufus, swinging his suit jacket over his shoulder and Lucy grinned as she noticed he was wearing suspenders. She reached out, curling a hand around one of them and tugging him forward.

“Mr. Bond,” she whispered before she pulled him closer, kissing him hard. Rufus chuckled at his friends, glancing over at their daughters who were watching with conflicting looks on their faces, making Rufus laugh a little harder.

He’d already heard about little Layla’s revelation regarding ‘gross kissing’. Amelia seemed to be struggling to keep up with her younger sister’s example, giving up and shutting her eyes tight as her parents essentially made out in front of her.

“The Lifeboat is ready!” Agent Christopher called, and Rufus stood as Wyatt and Lucy disentangled themselves and both crouched down to wrap each girl in a bear hug.

“Lia, make sure you do your homework,” Lucy reminded Amelia as Wyatt ushered her away. “And, Layla, sweetie, make sure you put all of your toys away this time. We don’t want to trip anyone again, okay?” Layla nodded sheepishly as she and Amelia followed them to the edge of the dock, standing by Jiya and waving as Lucy reluctantly climbed up into the time machine, Wyatt right behind her with his hand on her waist.

“They’ll be fine, Luce,” Wyatt reassured her as she waved at the girls as the door closed. He leaned forward, buckling her in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips before leaning back. “Jiya’s got them, and Agent Christopher would never let anything happen to them.”

“Plus, we haven’t lost them yet,” Rufus reminded her, knowing Lucy was really afraid of coming back to a timeline where her girls no longer existed. He knew that was the real reason she was so adamant about not playing with time travel to try and get their Wyatt back, though he suspected that she’d fallen into this new life quite quickly given how comfortable she was around this Wyatt.

Lucy smiled at both men as the Lifeboat began to shake violently, signaling that it was almost time for them to leave. Rufus sat back, concentrating as he navigated the Lifeboat through time, wincing as they landed in Washington, D.C. in 1961.

* * *

It took a couple hours for them to figure out where the Kennedys were headed, but Lucy talked herself into the first pre-inaugural ball that she knew Jack and his wife would be attending, and Wyatt accompanied her as his guest. Lucy secured Rufus an actual invitation as well, insisting that he was a very well-known musician that the doorman just hadn’t heard of yet.

Thankfully, he did not ask for a demonstration. He just ushered Rufus in with Lucy and Wyatt, looking extremely flustered and embarrassed at being completely called out by Lucy.

“Alright, should we split up, look for Emma?” Rufus suggested as he glanced around. The Kennedys had yet to arrive, but the party was already in full swing, and Rufus was pleased to see he was not the only African-American in the room.

Wyatt glanced around, keeping his arm wrapped firmly around Lucy’s waist. She’d taken her coat off upon arriving and now had it draped over her arm.

“Yeah, are you gonna be okay?” he asked Rufus quietly as he glanced around. Rufus looked pointedly at Lucy who nodded.

“Kennedy wasn’t a racist. His inauguration was one that promoted peace and freedom throughout the entire country.” She smiled brightly at Rufus. “You should be fine.” Rufus nodded as he headed one way while Wyatt and Lucy headed another.

“Where do you think Emma would be?” Lucy whispered, leaning in close as Wyatt draped her coat on the back of a chair at a table toward the back. Wyatt took her hand in his, leading her away from the table.

“Let’s try the dance floor,” he urged, and Lucy sighed, playfully rolling her eyes as he pulled her onto the dance floor, immediately wrapping an arm around her waist, taking her hand in his as she rested her other hand on his shoulder. He pulled her close, their chests touching.

“I’m guessing this Lucy didn’t dance with you enough,” she teased as he spun her out and pulled her back into his arms. Wyatt chuckled, a faraway look in his eye.

“After you get married and settle down, have two kids and spend all your time worrying about _them_ , date nights don’t happen often,” Wyatt explained. “Especially considering our jobs.” Lucy nodded at that, frowning softly. “We haven’t been out in a while. But, we used to go dancing all the time, before Lia was born.” Lucy smiled at that.

“I bet I was terrible,” she whispered and Wyatt shook his head, smirking at her.

“Not at all, ma'am,” he breathed, leaning in to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. “It’s all about the leader, and I am a _fantastic_ dancer.” Lucy laughed as he gently kissed her cheek, pulling her close again. “Was I not a fantastic dancer?” he asked, and Lucy shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know, actually,” Lucy mumbled. “You didn’t seem like a dancer, though.” Wyatt nodded thoughtfully before spinning Lucy around again, grinning as she giggled.

They danced for a few more songs, and Wyatt asked a few more questions about the other him like how long he’d been a Master Sergeant for and where he’d been stationed. Lucy told him about his mission in Syria and Wyatt’s face paled.

“I remember that mission,” he muttered, looking down. Lucy gently tilted his chin back up, worrying. “That was a hard one. As soon as I got home, I proposed to you because I was afraid of what if it had been me left behind.” Lucy froze at that, and Wyatt stopped as well, standing in a sea of dancing guests dressed to the nines. “You would’ve never known how much I loved you.”

“You came back for _me_?” Lucy asked incredulously and Wyatt tucked her hair behind her ear, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You have been and always will be what I’m fighting for,” he whispered and the choice of words sent a tingle down Lucy’s spine.

Suddenly, she was transported back to a bedroom in 1944, Germany. Her Wyatt was fixing her tie, smirking down at her, giving her that advice: figure out what you’re fighting for.

This Wyatt had been fighting for her.

She had been fighting for Amy from that point on, but now that she’d gotten her, who was she fighting for?

The girls.

Lucy took a shaky breath and Wyatt dipped her in time with the song, along with everyone else in the room, and Lucy was momentarily shocked by how coordinated it all seemed. He pulled her back up, kissing her gently. Lucy sighed, tangling her fingers in his hair as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She pulled away before the kiss grew too heated.

“Men don’t kiss women like _that_ in public,” Lucy informed him as she pressed her forehead against his. He pecked her lips, pulling her closer.

Suddenly, the music stopped and all eyes turned toward the doors. Lucy felt her breath catch in her throat: the President was here.

Even though she’d met President Kennedy back when he was a Senator, there was still a sort of novelty to seeing the President with her own two eyes entering his pre-inauguration ball with his wife on his arm.

“Alright, fun time’s over,” Lucy mumbled under her breath, and Wyatt nodded as his arms tightened around her, going into soldier mode. “What’s the plan?”

“I haven’t seen any sign of Emma yet,” Wyatt muttered, glancing warily around the room. “And since he’s about to become president, guards will be all over him anyway.” He looked down at her, still frowning. “He should be safe, but we should stay close by and make sure. Keep your eyes peeled for our little redheaded demon.” Lucy scoffed at the title but nodded as Wyatt spun her around the dance floor, keeping an eye on the Kennedys as they danced themselves.

Hours passed, and Rufus returned not long after the Kennedys arrived, saying he’d been all around the building and there was no sign of Emma or her goons.

“I checked the Lifeboat CPU, though,” Rufus murmured. “And it says she’s still in 1961.” Lucy frowned, turning in Wyatt’s hold to face Rufus, his arms still wrapped around her waist. Wyatt leaned his head down to rest his chin on her shoulder as Lucy screwed her face up in deep thought.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Kennedys leaving, and she knew where Emma was.

“I just remembered something kind of important,” she breathed, following after the Kennedys, tugging Wyatt and Rufus along with her.

* * *

The three time-travelers followed closely after the Kennedys, watching as the car dropped off Jackie at the White House before turning around and heading back toward Jack’s childhood home.

“Wait, his wife goes home early?” Wyatt asked as he followed Kennedy’s car. Lucy nodded, turning between Wyatt and Rufus as she explained.

“Jackie goes home around one in the morning, claiming she’s exhausted from the day and is emotionally exhausted about the prospect of tomorrow,” she muttered. “Jack goes to one last pre-inauguration ball, held by his father. He only stays for a couple of hours, and these are the last moments you see him before he becomes President at tomorrow’s inauguration.” Wyatt pulled off on the side of the road as Jack drove up his driveway. “If Kennedy was telling the truth about his father being Rittenhouse, I’ll bet you this is where Emma’s headed.”

“So, it’s like, what, an impromptu summit?” Rufus asked as Wyatt carefully climbed out of the car. Lucy shrugged, not sure what was going on exactly.

Wyatt opened Lucy’s car door, leaning in to help her out. “Think you can get us past the guards again?” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her out of the car. Lucy nodded minutely as Rufus followed suit, climbing out of the car with them.

Lucy flashed her winning smile and bright eyes and the guard completely melted, letting her in immediately. He seemed incredibly disappointed when Wyatt pulled her closer, but they were all in and quickly set off to find Emma.

“Excuse me, sir, I didn’t get your name,” the guard barked suddenly, pulling Rufus back. Lucy and Wyatt froze, quickly turning around and attempting to come to Rufus’ rescue.

“Oh, he’s with us,” Lucy said, grinning, but the guard simply frowned at her. “He’s an old family friend, we were told to add him as our plus one,” she lied on the spot. The guard nodded, frowning apologetically.

“Miss, I apologize but your husband here is technically your plus one, and you’re his.” He turned back to Rufus, truly sorry. “I’m sorry sir, but with no invitation, no one gets into the ball.”

“And now I know how Cinderella felt,” Rufus muttered under his breath. “Is there any way I can get in? I’d really rather stick to them,” he insisted, gesturing toward Wyatt and Lucy, whose eyes were wide and panicked.

“Is there a problem here?” a voice barked suddenly, and Rufus turned to see Jack Kennedy walking up behind the guard, having noticed the scene at the door. Lucy gripped Wyatt’s hand firmly in hers. A look of recognition passed briefly over Jack’s face as he smiled warmly at Rufus. “Ah, there you are, my friend!” He clapped Rufus on the back as he turned to the guard. “Tom, these are some honored guests of mine. I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” he spoke now to Lucy, wrapping her in a hug. “Come in, all of you. The party’s just beginning.” Jack nodded once more at the guard, Tom as he’d called him, and ushered Lucy, Wyatt, and Rufus into the house.

Wyatt kept his arm wrapped firmly around Lucy’s waist as Kennedy guided the three of them through the house. Lucy glanced around, looking for a crop of red hair in the sea of dark and blonde. She thought she recognized Ethan Cahill, her grandfather, but Kennedy led them into a room before she could get a second glimpse.

“What were you thinking, Lucy?” Jack rounded on her as soon as the door had closed, and Wyatt pulled her closer. “It’s not safe for you to be here right now. Do you have any idea who is at this party?” Jack passed a hand over his face, clearly stressed. “Why do you think I sent Jackie home?” Lucy perked up at that.

“You sent her home?” she asked, frowning. She would never get used to finding out new facts about the history that she swore up and down that she knew by heart. Jack nodded, his eyes wild.

“Of course I did. She’s just as against our family heritage as I am,” he muttered under his breath, and Lucy felt her stomach drop. Jackie Kennedy was Rittenhouse, too?

“That’s Rittenhouse out there, then?” Wyatt asked, nodding back at the door, and Jack nodded solemnly. “I thought I saw Ethan,” Wyatt whispered, just loud enough for Lucy to hear and she turned to him, nodding.

“So did I,” she whispered before turning back to Jack. “Look, we’re looking for a redhead, her name’s Emma. She’s one of their operatives and we’re chasing after her. Have you seen her?” Jack frowned, nodding.

“Emma? Of course, she’s around here somewhere. She’s been waiting to bend my father’s ear all night, as far as I’ve heard.” Lucy glanced between Wyatt and Rufus, her eyes wide and panicked.

Not only was Emma here, but Jack spoke of her as if she was an old friend of the family.

“What do you know about her?” Rufus asked, frowning at Jack. He shrugged.

“I just know that she’s Rittenhouse. She showed up a few years ago, about the same time you two did, actually. She spoke with my father and then attended the DNC.” Lucy closed her eyes as she silently chastised herself for not thinking of his father. Of course, she was interested in the older Kennedy. He was the one that actually believed in the organization, unlike his son.

“Emma’s been speaking to your father? About what?” Wyatt prompted, taking a step forward, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Jack muttered apologetically. “But, this is the room he uses to discuss private matters. I used to hide in that closet over there,” Jack paused, pointing to a door behind Lucy and Wyatt. “And listen to his conversations, back when I was trying to get a feel for how to take Rittenhouse down from the inside.”

Wyatt nodded, moving away from Lucy. “Alright, you and Rufus head out to the party with Jack, act like nothing’s wrong. Talk to people, mingle, but don’t draw a lot of attention to yourselves. I’ll stay here and wait out Emma.” Wyatt looked pointedly at Lucy who was shaking her head slowly. “Luce, it’ll be fine. I’ll just hide in that closet and listen to what they say. No one’s getting hurt.”

Lucy decided not to dwell on the fact that the last time he’d said that to her, someone had ended up very much hurt, and with nearly nothing to show for it. But, that was another life.

She nodded, forcing a smile as she leaned her forehead against Wyatt’s. “Okay,” she whispered, and both Jack and Rufus turned to the door to give them a moment of privacy. “Please be careful, Wyatt.” He nodded, kissing her softly. “I love you,” she whispered as she pulled away.

He closed his eyes, squeezing her hand. “I love you, too.”

He kept his eyes closed as he felt her hand slip out of his because he didn’t want to watch her go. He didn’t open them again until he heard the door close and he was sure he was alone.

* * *

No one came into the room for a long time, leaving Wyatt mostly to his thoughts. He was worried about Lucy, and even more worried about _his_ Lucy. If this Lucy had come into this timeline, what exactly had happened to his original Lucy? Was she in a parallel universe with this Lucy’s Wyatt? Was she falling in love with him all over again, just as he was falling in love with her? Lucy was Lucy, and he loved her no matter what. He wondered if his counterpart felt the same way.

Wyatt couldn’t imagine any timeline where he wouldn’t love Lucy with his entire heart, but Lucy had claimed that there was someone else for him. How was that possible? There had never been anyone else; they had been each other’s whole world since they’d met in college. He made a mental note to ask Lucy how she met his other self. He wanted to know more about this other existence that didn’t include marrying Lucy, which he continuously struggled to wrap his head around.

The soft click of high heels sounded and Wyatt held his breath, waiting as he heard the door gently swing open, creaking. The heels clicked themselves all the way to just outside the closet and Wyatt stiffened, his hand reaching for his gun immediately. He watched as the doorknob of the closet turned and pulled his gun out, aiming and ready to shoot whoever was on the other side.

The door swung open and Wyatt clicked the safety off, startled as he took in the sight in front of him.

“Lucy?” he whispered, quickly putting his gun back into his holster as he registered the panicked look in her eyes. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, reaching out and pulling her into his arms. She was shaking and wasn’t responding to him. Whatever she’d seen, it must have been bad. “Baby, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay, I promise.”

“They know me,” she whispered against his neck, and he felt her fingers clawing into his shoulders as she held onto him tight. She pulled away and he frowned as he noticed the tear tracks lining her cheeks. “Wyatt, they know who I am. They already have so many plans for me.” He brushed her hair back from her face, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, wiping a stray tear away.

“What do you mean they know you? Who, Rittenhouse?” he asked urgently. Lucy began to explain but they were interrupted by voices on the other side of the door. Panicking, Wyatt pulled Lucy into the closet with him, gently closing the door as he heard the other door swing open.

“Now, tell me what this is all about,” a man’s voice murmured from the other side of the closet door, and his footsteps clicked as he walked toward the desk, settling into the chair. Another pair of feet shuffled to stand in front of the desk, and Wyatt perked up as they began to speak.

“Mr. Kennedy, she’s still fighting her destiny even now,” Emma explained softly. Lucy shivered in his arms and he tightened his hold on her, praying she didn’t panic enough to make a noise. “Her mother is dead in the current timeline and Ben has been captured by the government.” Kennedy scoffed, and Wyatt could hear the distinct slosh of liquid in a glass as Kennedy seemingly poured himself a drink. “Sir, please, Lucy Preston is out of control.”

Wyatt stiffened as he heard Lucy’s name and he glanced down at her. Her eyes were blank as she stared up at him, and he realized what she’d been trying to tell him. They had so many plans for her. They knew who she was. They knew Lucy was there.

“Jack met her a few years ago,” Kennedy continued, pouring another drink. He must’ve handed it to Emma because, a moment later, the two glasses clinked together. “He said she had married outside of the organization,” he paused, taking a sip of his drink. “But, I thought we’d already planned to promise her to that doctor’s son. He’s a pediatric surgeon in your time, I believe.”

“Noah,” Emma murmured, and Lucy froze in Wyatt’s arms. He gently brushed his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her. It must have been so odd to hear your own life discussed before it had even happened. “I forgot his last name, but she’s not married to him. She’s not married to anyone. She and the soldier must have been faking it.”

That gave Wyatt pause. They didn’t know he and Lucy were married. They thought he was still the _other_ Wyatt.

“Yes, you mentioned her and the soldier before. You suspected they were getting closer,” he prompted her. Emma must have nodded or made some sort of form of affirmation because he grunted. “That won’t do. You must do everything in your power to get Lucy and Noah together. We have such big plans for both of them, such bright futures for them and their children.”

“Sir, I’m not sure how to play cupid here,” Emma hedged wryly.

“Get creative,” Kennedy barked, and he stood from his chair. “That’s why we hired you, Miss Whitmore.” He left the room, the door closing behind him. Emma stayed in the room for a long while, probably processing everything, as Wyatt knew Lucy was doing. Eventually, she stood as well, leaving the room.

Wyatt waited another fifteen minutes before he made a sound, wanting to be certain he and Lucy were alone.

“I’m just going to take a peek,” he whispered, his lips against her hair. He felt the tears on her cheek as she nodded against him and he gently kissed her tears away.

He gently pressed on the door and it opened a crack. He peered out, his gun in his hand in case there was trouble on the other side of the door. When he was satisfied that they were alone, he opened the door all the way, pulling Lucy with him.

“Hey, look at me,” he urged Lucy as she continued to hold onto him as he framed her face, pulling her face up to meet his eyes. “Right at me.”

She breathed slowly, evenly, and he could see as she calmed down, her eyes brightening slightly, her tears drying up on her rosy cheeks.

“They know everything,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Wyatt shook his head, and she frowned.

“They don’t know we’re married,” he reminded her. “And if they don’t know we’re married,” he prompted, waiting for her to realize. She gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened.

“They don’t know about the girls,” she breathed, and her entire body instantly relaxed, so much that Wyatt had to bear some of her weight as he led her out of the room. As long as it stayed that way, maybe they could take Rittenhouse down without ever putting the girls in danger.

Rufus and Jack were right outside the room, waiting anxiously. Rufus instantly helped Wyatt with Lucy, who was quickly losing her balance.

“She had a panic attack, she just needs some water and rest,” Wyatt explained as Rufus looked worriedly at Wyatt as he caught Lucy in his arms.

“They don’t know about the girls,” Lucy repeated under her breath. Jack frowned, glancing between Lucy and Wyatt.

“The girls?” he asked. Realization dawned on him as he turned to Lucy. “You have children?” Lucy nodded. “We have two children as well: Caroline and John,“ he murmured, and she smiled softly at him.

"Congratulations,” she whispered. Jack smiled at her.

“I’ll make sure they _never_ find out about your girls, Lucy,” he promised her and Lucy smiled warmly at him, a huge load lifting off her chest.

“We should get back to our time,” Rufus urged, glancing at Wyatt. “Emma’s already back in the present.” Wyatt nodded and took Lucy from him, scooping her up into his arms. She was still feeling faint, but had the sense to drape her arms over his shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you for everything,” Wyatt told Kennedy as he clutched Lucy close. He held her tight as he and Rufus quickly made their way out of the house and down the street to where they’d parked the car so they could get back to the Lifeboat.

* * *

Lucy felt better as she stepped out of the time machine once they’d landed at Mason Industries.

Or, at least, she had until she set foot on the ground and two pairs of small feet didn’t rush out to greet her, as she was growing used to.

Wyatt climbed out after her, noting the panicked look in her eyes, frowning down at her. She just shook her head at him, her eyes wide, and he realized the same thing she just had. He quickly turned around, his eyes wide.

“Jiya,” he breathed, and she looked up at him. “Where are the girls?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't hate me (and if you're worried, message me on tumblr and i'll assuage your fears)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, once you write one smutty fic, everything you learned finds it's way into your other writing projects. Lucy gets fairly descriptive at the end of this chapter, so I've changed the entire fic's rating to M. 
> 
> This one took me the *longest* to write; I started it a few hours after I posted the last chapter. Still took me a week. We're nearing the beginning of the end, now, and you'll see what I mean once you read this chapter. Thank you, again, for all of your continued support. Your comments make my day and I absolutely love reading your reactions (especially after that last chapter; hopefully, this makes up for it somewhat)!

Lucy’s legs couldn’t carry her up the stairs to the conference room quickly enough, and she only had the sense not to burst through the doors when she remembered Jiya’s words.

_Amelia’s at school and Layla’s taking a nap upstairs._

Wyatt was right behind her as she paused in front of the door. His breathing was shaky as he pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning the knob and entering the conference room as quietly as possible.

Layla was curled up in the corner of the room on a small cot, her favorite blanket wrapped around her small body, her fingers tangled in her hair as she slept soundly.

“Thank goodness,” Lucy breathed, falling to her knees by Layla’s cot and kissing her daughter’s head. She was safe.

Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief above her, and she turned to watch him scrub a hand down his face; he had been just as worried. She wondered how often this fear engulfed them on these trips in this timeline. If every time they got into that time machine, they knew they might come home to a timeline where two little girls didn’t wrap themselves around them instantly, this time because they no longer existed.

He gently crouched beside her, scooping Layla into his arms, holding her close against his chest, careful not to wake her. She turned in his arms, pressing her small nose into his chest as she continued to sleep soundly, and Lucy’s heart tightened at the sight.

“Let’s go home,” Wyatt whispered, and Lucy reached up to kiss him quickly. “We’ll wait for Lia.” She nodded and they left Mason Industries, Wyatt with Layla in his arms, and Lucy with her daughter’s forgotten blanket wrapped tightly in her hands.

* * *

Lucy woke to the sound of the door closing downstairs. Her eyes opened to the sight of dark unruly curls, soaked with sweat, stuck up against her cheek. She sat up, looking around.

She was in Layla’s room.

Layla was still asleep, her curls matted to her forehead and Lucy gently brushed the soft wisps away, stroking her daughter’s cheek.

“She’s still asleep?” Wyatt asked from the doorway, and Lucy looked up, nodding. “Come on,” he whispered, holding his hand out. She stood from Layla’s small bed and took his hand gratefully, clutching it like a lifeline.

“Is Lia home?” she asked as Wyatt closed Layla’s door behind him. He nodded, gesturing to the stairs. Lucy could hear her other daughter now, making noise in the kitchen as she unpacked her school stuff and pulled out all of her homework.

Lucy and Wyatt padded their way downstairs and watched as Amelia rummaged through the refrigerator for an afternoon snack. Lucy’s hands shook as she walked up to Amelia.

“Mom?” Amelia muttered around the chocolate chip cookie she’d just shoved into her mouth. Lucy just sighed, pulling Amelia into her arms, holding her tight. Amelia huffed as she was squeezed, but her arms quickly wound around her mother’s middle, gently rubbing up and down her back as she realized her mom was upset about something.

Amelia glanced around her mom’s waist at her father, who was watching her with the same awed look in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she was really there.

Something must have happened in the machine they climbed into in their funny outfits all the time.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Amelia whispered as Lucy knelt down to envelop her daughter in a tighter hug, and Amelia lay her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’m okay, I promise.”

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, wrapped in her mother’s disbelieving embrace, but she knew that she wasn’t getting in trouble for spoiling her dinner that night.

* * *

Long after the girls had both been put to bed, Layla having woken up halfway through Lucy helping Amelia with her homework and demanding animal crackers, Wyatt and Lucy collapsed into bed, still in their clothes. His fingers danced up her sides, eliciting a small shiver as she curled her body further into his, entangling their legs as she kissed him.

“Hey, Luce,” Wyatt whispered between kisses as Lucy’s fingernails gently scratched over his chest. “We still need to talk about what we heard.” Lucy pulled back, shaking her head, her eyes wide.

“I can’t think about that right now, okay?” she murmured before kissing him again.

Wyatt knew her better than anyone, in this timeline and in her original timeline, so he knew exactly what she needed. She needed to unwind, to let go, and he helped her do just that, discarding her dress as he pulled the covers up over them, kissing Lucy fiercely as she frantically undid his belt and used her feet to push his pants off his hips.

Lucy wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to this, the absolutely euphoric feeling of Wyatt moving inside her, her naked body pressed against his, his hands everywhere. She didn’t want to think, she just wanted to feel. They didn’t talk, the bedroom completely silent save for her breathless moans every now and then as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

Afterward, once Lucy had dragged Wyatt into the shower and returned the favor, she and Wyatt collapsed back into bed, fully dressed in pajamas this time.

Wyatt’s fingers toyed with her wet hair as she relaxed back into his chest. Lucy sighed contentedly as he lingered kisses across her hairline and his other hand brushed up and down her arm as she curled into him.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” he whispered and Lucy wrapped her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest. “Come on, Luce, it’ll make you feel better to talk about it.”

“It’ll help me get over the hump, right?” Lucy mumbled, and Wyatt frowned down at her.

“What does that mean?”

Lucy sat up, looking up at him. She paused, frowning softly as she remembered that she never crashed her car into the river. She never had a panic attack in 1944 and Wyatt never talked her down, helping her get ‘over the hump’.

“Oh,” he muttered, realizing. “Is that from the other Wyatt?” Lucy nodded slightly, relaxing back into his arms.

She wanted to tell Wyatt everything, she did. But, per usual, she was having trouble figuring out where to begin. It was all just too much, and she clung tighter to him as she worried the weight of it would crush her completely.

“Who’s Noah?”

She stiffened in his arms. Of course, he wouldn’t know who Noah was; she’d been married to him for eight years in this timeline.

“He’s, um, my fiance,” Lucy mumbled, turning to bury her face in his chest. He huffed a laugh, thinking she was teasing. She turned her face up, bright red though it was, staring up at him. She was serious.

“He’s your _what_?” Wyatt asked, sitting up straight, pulling Lucy with him. She curled against his chest, staring up at him. “You were engaged in your timeline? Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy tilted her head, squinting into space as she tried to think of how to tell him.

“He’s not _actually_ my fiance,” she began, biting her lip. “See, I came back from the Hindenburg, and Amy was gone, as you know.” Wyatt nodded, frowning as he waited for the explanation regarding her fiance. “Well, that’s not all that I came home to. I also came home to find out that I was engaged to a man named Noah,” Lucy paused, squeezing her eyes shut, “who I’d never met before.”

Wyatt was silent as Lucy huffed a sigh and slowly opened her eyes. He was staring at her, completely dumbfounded, but thankfully not angry in any way. He just seemed… shocked.

“You mean, this has happened before?” he muttered, frowning at her. “You, coming home to a new significant other, that’s happened before?” Lucy nodded and Wyatt shook his head in disbelief. “Why the _hell_ wouldn’t you tell me that, Lucy?” Lucy flinched at his words and he quickly wrapped his arms around her, soothing. “Sorry, I’m not mad,” he promised and she relaxed in his hold. “It’s just, don’t you think that’s kind of _important_ to know?”

“To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about him,” Lucy admitted, smiling softly up at him in apology. “Around the time we went to the Rittenhouse summit, I broke off our 'engagement’ and haven’t seen or heard from him since,” she explained, Wyatt laughing at her use of air quotes.

“Emma wants you with him,” he reminded her gently, and Lucy sat straight up as the previous night came rushing back at her.

“ _Rittenhouse_ wants me with him,” she corrected, her eyes widening. “Wyatt, I never told you. They _knew_ who I was.” Wyatt nodded.

“No, you did tell me that,” he whispered, his hands on her arms, trying to soothe her. Lucy shook her head emphatically.

“No, they called me by _name_. They knew who’s child I was, even though my father couldn’t have been more than five years old at the time.” Wyatt frowned at her as Lucy felt her breath coming too quickly, choking on air. “One man said they were all proud of me, or _would be_ proud of me,” Lucy explained breathlessly, and her vision darkened as she tried to focus on Wyatt, who was slowly beginning to panic at her lack of breathing. “And then he winked,” she mumbled, on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Hey,” Wyatt’s voice sounded so far away, like she was underwater. Was she drowning? Was it happening now because it hadn’t happened all those years ago? “Lucy! Hey, look at me, baby, right at me.” Lucy tried to focus on his voice, but she couldn’t see properly anymore. Everything was a blur. She couldn’t catch her breath and the water was closing in all around her. She couldn’t breathe.

Wyatt’s hands were cool on her face as he dragged her closer, and suddenly she could see again. His forehead was pressed up against hers, their noses brushing. His eyes were closed, and she couldn’t hear what he was whispering but she was willing to bet it was her name followed by a string of endearments. She focused on him, smiling as her vision sharpened and she could hear his voice clearly again.

She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead up against his as she took deep, deliberate breaths. He held her close as she regulated her breathing. They both opened their eyes at the same time, pulling away to gaze at each other.

“Better?” he whispered, stroking his thumb over her cheek. She nodded and he pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head.

He lay down, Lucy still wrapped in his arms. “It’s just, what if they find out about you, or the girls?” she mumbled. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.” Wyatt’s arms tightened around her.

“We’re going to figure everything out, Lucy,” he whispered into her hair as she sighed softly against his neck. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you and the girls safe. I promise you.” Lucy nodded gently, her eyes already sliding shut, lulled into a state of comfort by the rise and fall of Wyatt’s chest under her cheek and they both drifted off to sleep, knowing they’d be rudely awakened by Emma taking the Mothership out in just a few short hours.

* * *

By some stroke of luck, Amy is over visiting with the girls the next morning when Wyatt gets the call that Emma has taken the Mothership to December 6, 1941. Hours before the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Lucy nearly spins herself into a proper panic attack as she contemplates all the things Emma could do that would change the course of history, alter their timeline until it would be virtually unrecognizable.

Well, more so than it already was, Lucy thought.

Wyatt attempts to calm her down as the girls watch wide-eyed as their mother struggles to keep her breathing even, the millions of possibilities flitting through her mind, but it’s Amy that brings her back to reality.

“Lucy,” her voice barrels through all the jumbled thoughts lost in her mind. Amy’s gripping her shoulders firmly, her eyes are wide but determined, focused only on her sister. Lucy immediately calms down as her sister begins to inhale and exhale at an exaggeratedly slow pace. “It’s okay. I’ll stay here with the girls. You go save the world.”

That gives Lucy pause, but Wyatt isn’t phased by Amy’s directions.

Amy knows about time travel.

She must. How else would she know that Lucy’s essentially going to save the world? Amy smiled softly at her sister, rubbing her shoulders gently. “Lia, Layla,” she called over her shoulder, and the girls perked up immediately, both looking worriedly over at their mother. Lucy offered them a bright smile, trying to assuage their fears as Amy grinned at them. “How would my two favorite princesses feel about staying with Aunt Amy today? Mommy and Daddy have to climb into their funny machine.” The girls’ eyes widened as their faces absolutely lit up at the prospect of spending the entire day with their aunt.

“We would like that very much, Aunt Amy,” Layla said politely, twirling in place, barely unable to contain her excitement. Next to her, her sister nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip to hold back the squeal that was no doubt threatening to emerge.

Wyatt laughed at the girls and Lucy smiled at her little family. She turned back to Amy, smiling brightly, now completely calm from her panic moments ago.

“Thanks, Ames,” she whispered, pulling her baby sister in for a hug. Amy laughed as she hugged her sister back, and Lucy fought back the tears that were threatening to spill over as she realized she was hugging her baby sister once again. Amy patted Lucy on the back, pulling away.

“It’s no problem, Luce. We’ll destroy your beautiful home together, so enjoy your time wherever you’re going,” she teased. Lucy only laughed, knowing her sister was joking.

Well, hoping she was joking.

She and Wyatt quickly collected their things and headed to Mason Industries, Lucy waving goodbye to the three girls waving from the porch as they sped off.

* * *

Being in a war zone with a soldier was oddly satisfying. Wyatt had taken control as soon as the Lifeboat had landed, making sure Lucy and Rufus stayed close behind him. His hand never left Lucy’s as they made their way through the crowds of soldiers, searching for a shock of red hair in the sea of uniforms.

“What could Emma do, exactly?” Rufus whispered, struggling to keep up with Lucy and Wyatt. “Could she stop the bombs?” Lucy shrugged helplessly as Wyatt paused on the side of a building, peeking around the corner.

“Today, they’ll spend hours trying to decode Japan’s intercepted message that basically tells Japan to cut ties with Washington. They then drop two waves of atomic bombs on Pearl Harbor, killing thousands of soldiers and civilians. The United States declare war on the Empire of Japan because of it.” Lucy shook her head, going through all the ways Emma could screw this up in her mind. “She could do anything, she could decode the messages earlier, and potentially save all these people. Or, she could ensure that the U.S. aircraft carriers are still in the harbor and kill thousands more. She might be able to intercept one of the Japanese planes and divert one of the bombs into hitting a different target.” Wyatt squeezed her hand as she shook her head again. “There are a number of things she could do, so we need to find her first and stop her.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult,” a deep voice came from behind Rufus. All three time-travelers spun around in time to see one of Emma’s goons pull Rufus away and lunge for Lucy.

“Hey!” Wyatt pulled his gun, aiming to kill, but the goon held Lucy up in front of him, using her as a shield.

In another timeline, Wyatt might have risked the shot, but in this one, there was no chance he’d ever do something that could endanger Lucy’s life in the slightest.

“She just wants to talk to the princess, and then you’ll get her back,” the goon explained, his grip around Lucy loosening, but still tight enough that she couldn’t get away. “You have my word.”

“What the hell’s your word mean to me?” Wyatt sneered, glaring at the man. The man grinned, baring crooked teeth.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”

And with that, Lucy was swept up by the man, thrown over his shoulder once more, screaming Wyatt’s name as they barreled through the crowd.

* * *

Lucy stumbled gracelessly as she was tossed off of the man’s shoulder in an army barracks. Emma turned around, smiling down at Lucy as she scrambled to stand her ground.

“Fancy meeting you here, princess,” Emma grinned. “I _knew_ you’d take the bait and follow me out here. Not to worry, I don’t plan on doing anything here today. This went exactly as it should have.”

What?

“Do you mean Rittenhouse planned this attack to begin with?” Lucy whispered in disbelief. Emma tilted her head, frowning into space.

“Not exactly, but we knew it was coming, and we didn’t exactly want to stop it.” Lucy shook her head as Emma continued. “I’m here for a different reason, actually, but I’m mostly here to speak with you, princess.”

“ _Why_ do you keep calling me that?” Lucy asked, gritting her teeth. “My mother said I was _like_ royalty, not that I specifically _was_ royalty.” Emma grinned again, stifling a chuckle.

“Isn’t that what you refer to an heir as? A princess?” she asked, smirking. “You, Lucy Preston, are destined to lead Rittenhouse as your mother has been for many years. Noah is also destined to lead alongside you.” Lucy’s heart sunk as the gravity of the situation became clearer. “Noah has been promised to you since before you were born,” Emma paused, taking a calculated step closer to Lucy. Lucy didn’t move. “But, you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Emma knew.

She knew that Lucy had been in 1961. She knew that Lucy had heard everything Emma had discussed with Joe Kennedy. She knew the time travelers would chase her here and lured Lucy into her trap. She knew everything.

“But, that’s not why I wanted to speak with you,” Emma continued, turning on her heel and staring dramatically out a small window, up at the sky. “Tell me, how is your dear husband doing?”

No.

Emma turned back around, delighting in the look of pure horror on Lucy’s face. “Oh yes, princess, I know _all_ about this alternate timeline you’ve somehow gotten yourself into. The internet back in the present is still very useful when it comes to marriage license records.” Emma turned back around as Lucy held back the sob that had caught in her chest.

She knew about Wyatt. She might know about the girls.

“I suppose 'congratulations’ are in order. I understand you recently celebrated your eight-year anniversary to the young Master Sergeant.”

All Lucy could allow herself to think about was that the footwear Emma had chosen was horribly inappropriate for the current situation. No one in Pearl Harbor would’ve been wearing such high heels. The click of each heel on concrete was a stab to Lucy’s heart as she paused right in front of Lucy.

“In the interest of fairness, seeing as you will undoubtedly become my boss in the future, I’m here to warn you.” Lucy looked up at that, her eyes filled with tears. “I know how resourceful you can be, Lucy. Find a way to switch it back to the original timeline, or I’ll do _everything_ I can to get rid of your beloved soldier.”

Emma smiled briefly before walking past Lucy, straight for the door. Her goon, whose name Lucy couldn’t remember nor bothered to ask, opened the door and they both stepped aside.

“As promised, I only wanted to talk to you, Lucy,” Emma said, nodding toward the open door. “You’re free to go.”

Lucy bolted for the door, not sticking around any longer to find out if Emma ever really meant for her to get back to her team safely.

She ran through the crowds, shoving into soldiers as she fought her way back to where she’d last seen Wyatt and Rufus. Halfway there, she realized they would’ve gone after her initially, then headed back to the Lifeboat for when she came back. Lucy turned around, heading away from the military base and off to where they’d parked the Lifeboat.

She heard him before she saw him.

“Lucy! Thank god!” Wyatt’s arms wrapped around her instantly as she clung to him, the tears coming hard and fast now that she was back in his arms. Emma was going to kill him. If Lucy didn’t figure out how to get back to the original timeline, Emma would surely kill Wyatt and the girls, if she ever found out about them. She had to protect her family.

Lucy pulled away slightly to press her lips to his, insistently. She kissed him deeper and rougher than usual, all the panic and fear and desperation and passion melting out of her as she clutched his shoulders. Wyatt responded fervently, neither of them realizing, or caring, that Rufus was mere feet away from them, in the Lifeboat, getting ready for takeoff.

She could lose him. The next mission, even, if she wasn’t careful. Lucy could lose Wyatt.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Lucy reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily as she rested her forehead against his. His fingers had tangled themselves in her hair, and his thumb softly brushed the tears away from her cheek.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, worry coloring his voice. Lucy nodded. “Did she hurt you?”

“No,” Lucy breathed. “No, she just wanted to talk.”

“About what?”

She couldn’t tell him. He’d go after Emma _now_. She’d lose him today if she told him that Emma knew everything and would inevitably find out about the girls. She wanted to preserve this for as long as possible.

So, instead of telling him everything that had just transpired, she simply said, “I’ll tell you when we get home.”

Wyatt nodded, gripping her hands firmly in his and leading her back to the Lifeboat. Lucy was still silent as his hands deftly secured her seatbelts and tightened her harness. His hand found hers, and she quickly brought it up to her lips, kissing his knuckles as the time machine rattled and shook around them.

She never wanted to let him go, but she knew she’d have to.

* * *

They arrived back at Mason Industries to confusion; they’d only been gone for a few hours, as opposed to the fifteen to sometimes forty-eight hours trips they usually took.

“Emma was there,” Lucy replied when Agent Christopher asked what had happened. “She just wanted to talk to me.”

“Well, what did she say?” Agent Christopher demanded. Lucy exchanged a look with Rufus and Wyatt, and Wyatt came to her rescue, as he always did, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“All due respect, ma'am, Lucy has had a rough day. Can you wait to read her report?” he asked politely. Agent Christopher really looked at Lucy now, and she must have been quite a sight because Agent Christopher sighed and said that was fine. Wyatt pulled her to the wardrobe dock and handed her the clothes she’d been wearing a few hours ago.

Lucy changed quickly, still in a state of worry as she realized what had to be done. She should talk to Rufus, make a plan, figure out how to do what she knew had to be done.

All she really wanted to do, though, was hold her girls and hug her sister and make love to Wyatt.

She rested her hand in his as they drove back to the house, knowing the girls would be confused, but excited, when their parents showed up at a decent hour.

The girls were indeed shocked when Lucy and Wyatt opened the front door, but not as shocked as Lucy was at the state of her house.

She usually prided herself on keeping a clean home, but this was over the top. Amy and the girls each wore long yellow gloves that ran up to their elbows and the girls’ hair was pulled up into messy pigtails, small bandannas wrapped around their heads. Their gloves were dripping with soapy water as Lucy took in the sparkle and shine of every surface in her home. They’d dusted, vacuumed, polished, and swept every surface, making it look brand new.

Lucy choked up and Amy quickly stood, smiling at her sister.

“You seemed stressed when you left, and I know your job couldn’t have made _that_ any better, so we decided to do something nice!” She threw her arms out, gesturing around the house. “It was actually the girls’ idea.” Lucy sniffled as she knelt down to wrap her girls in her arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing her daughters tight, making them both giggle as their small arms encircled their mother. She kissed them each on the cheek before letting them go. “Thank you so much, Ames, it’s just what I needed.” Amy waved it off.

“Eh, little sisters can be helpful sometimes,” she murmured. She looked pointedly at Layla. “Remember that, small one.” Layla giggled, nodding, as Wyatt scooped her up into his arms. Amy turned back to Lucy, smirking. “But, don’t get used to this. We are _totally_ destroying your house next time I come over. I’m talking silly string and feather pillows.” Lucy laughed, internally mulling over what her sister had just said.

Next time.

But, there wouldn’t be a next time.

Amy left shortly after that, and since Lucy and Wyatt were home at a decent time, they grilled burgers for dinner while Lucy listened to the girls tell her all about their day.

“It was like we were _actual_ princesses, Mommy!” Layla squealed, her hands throw into the air. Lucy giggled at that, leaning down to level with her.

“You _are_ an actual princess, baby,” she whispered before kissing Layla’s soft cheek. Layla still giggled but didn’t pull away; not since her revelation about kissing. Amelia grimaced and Lucy leaned over to kiss her cheek as well. “You too, Lia.” Amelia huffed a laugh and smiled at her mother.

Lucy tried not to dwell on how true that statement was. It wouldn’t be true for them. She’d make sure to protect them.

After dinner, and the girls had brushed their teeth and taken their baths and fallen asleep in their beds, Lucy and Wyatt showered and changed into their pajamas, crawling immediately under the covers.

“Are you going to tell me what happened at Pearl Harbor?” Wyatt murmured as he wrapped Lucy in his arms, holding her close.

She knew she should tell him.

He had a right to know that when she latched her mouth onto his, her fingers sliding up under his t-shirt, that she was memorizing the feel of his muscles underneath her touch, desperately worried that she might forget. She should tell him that when she pulled his t-shirt off a moment later and traced every scar and bruise on his body with her tongue that she was trying not to cry as she realized she might never get to do this again.

He needed to know as she slunk down his body, pulled his pajama pants down, and took him in her mouth that she was doing this because it might never happen where she was going next.

He needed to know she was saying goodbye.

But she didn’t tell him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please thank the clouds for pouring rain and having my job start later than usual. Woke up at 4:30 this morning finally knowing how to finish this chapter. Hope everyone ignoring their responsibilities today (like me) enjoys! 
> 
> Those of you who've been wishing for original Wyatt......

The morning light filtering through the curtains in their bedroom was a cruel reminder of what Lucy had to do.

She turned in Wyatt’s arms, shivering at the feel of his naked skin against hers, smiling softly at his peaceful expression, caught in a deep sleep. His breath ruffled her hair with his soft snores, and she stifled a giggle as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She resisted the urge to trace his face with her fingertips.

She wasn’t _really_ saying goodbye.

Wyatt still existed in her original timeline. He was going to be alive and well and safe and Emma wouldn’t go after him if she thought he and Lucy were no longer involved. She could play that role. She’d played the role of being in love with him in 1934 so convincingly; surely, she could pretend that she wasn’t absolutely in love with him. To keep him safe.

She was saying goodbye to _this_ Wyatt, though.

This Wyatt loved her wholeheartedly, unashamed, without the reminder of his past. He didn’t have a past in this timeline; Lucy was his past, present, and future, and she felt somewhat ashamed at wishing that had always been the case. That her Wyatt had been just as open to loving her as this one had been, that she’d made a move a few months ago the night she’d learned about her mother’s involvement with Rittenhouse.

Wyatt stirred in his sleep, and she watched with bated breath as his eyes fluttered open, finding hers immediately. She allowed herself a small smile; his sleepy early morning smiles had always been contagious.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered and she giggled, shaking her head as she curled herself closer to him, attempting to burrow deeper under the covers and away from the morning chill. His arm tightened where it held her waist and she shivered involuntarily as his fingers brushed over a ticklish spot by her stomach. Lucy rested her head on his shoulder, her fingertips tracing patterns into his chest.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking up at him. He smiled, and it nearly broke her heart.

“I love you, too,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. She closed her eyes, pulling herself away from his hold. She sat up, taking the sheet with her.

“But, there’s something that I have to do.” She turned away, staring down at the bed sheets as they bunched around their bottom halves. “And you’re not going to like it.”

She refused to look up as she heard Wyatt sit up next to her, his arm still slung around her hips, his thumb brushing back and forth.

“What’s wrong, Luce?” She could hear the frown in his voice.

Lucy took a deep breath, steeling herself for his reaction, and turned to face him, holding back the tears that had been threatening to spill over since the night before.

“I have to convince Emma that you and I aren’t married,” she began, swallowing the lump in her throat, pushing herself to continue. “I have to tell her that you’re at home and you’re hurt from having a wall fall on you. You and I aren’t together, I’m engaged to Noah, and my mother and I aren’t speaking.” He was frowning deeply and shaking his head. “But, in order for me to convince her of this,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “You can’t come with me the next time Emma takes the Mothership out.” His eyes widened, and his arm around her tightened.

“Lucy-” Wyatt began, but Lucy raised a hand to cut him off, and the tears were beginning to pool at the edge of her eyes, making Wyatt blurry but still beautiful.

“You can’t, Wyatt. That’s what she and I talked about. She knows about this timeline and that I don’t really belong here. She knows about us, and it’s only a matter of time before she finds out about the girls.” Lucy shook her head, allowing a single tear to slide down her cheek. “This is the only way I can keep you safe.” Wyatt brushed her tear away, his hand cradling her cheek.

“Lucy, last time you went somewhere without me, you ended up here,” Wyatt reminded her, his voice breaking as he brushed his thumb soothingly over her cheek again, catching more stray tears. “What if it all changes back?” Lucy nodded, properly crying now.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know, but it’s the only way to make sure you and the girls stay safe.” Wyatt shook his head at her, pulling her closer.

“By _erasing_ them? Erasing _me_?” he pleaded with her, and she cried, resting her forehead against his shoulder as he pulled her into a hug.

“She’ll kill you,” she whimpered against his shoulder. “She’ll kill you, and she’ll kill the girls, and I could never live with myself knowing that you all died because of me.” She shook her head, pulling away. “It’s better to just disappear, right?” Wyatt shrugged helplessly.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” he whispered, sitting up straight, placing both hands on Lucy’s shoulders. “But if you do this, you need to promise me something, okay?”

Lucy nodded, her tears subsiding for the moment. “Anything.” Wyatt reached up to brush her tears away, smiling softly down at her.

“I know you love me, and you love him,” he began, leaning toward her. “Promise me that you’ll tell him. Tell him how much you love him, and have two little girls with him, and live the life you had here.” His voice was strong, not a hint of sadness. “Get your sister back,” he continued. “And stop Rittenhouse.”

Lucy nodded, smiling softly up at him again. “I promise,” she sniffled. Wyatt nodded, satisfied, and pulled her back into his arms, laying them both down.

“Then, I’ll stay here with the girls the next time Emma takes the Mothership out,” he whispered into her hair as she curled herself around him again, entangling their bare legs under the sheets. “And you and Rufus will go with Teddy. And if you end up here, great,” he reasoned and she huffed a soft laugh at his tone. “And if you end up back in your original timeline, then you know what to do.” Lucy nodded, nuzzling her nose against his jaw as they waited for the call that would change their lives.

* * *

Agent Christopher doesn’t ask why Wyatt isn’t with Lucy when she shows up hours later, after tearful goodbyes to both the girls that neither of them quite understood. She wonders, absentmindedly, if he explained the situation when she called earlier to let them both know that Emma had taken the Mothership to Dallas, 1947.

Lucy walks through the doors, already flustered and still emotional from saying goodbye to her daughters, to Agent Christopher’s warm smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder as Teddy stands up, smiling at her.

“Hey, Dr. Preston,” he greets her, pulling her in for a hug. Lucy chuckles, hugging him back. “Whoa,” he muttered, glancing down at her left hand as she pulled away, smiling up at him. He took her hand in his, examining the wedding ring that still sat on her finger. “You and Sarge tie the knot while I was gone?” Lucy blushed, glancing down at her ring.

“Something like that,” she mumbled as she pulled her hand away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Rufus tapped her on the shoulder and she spun around, noting the look of confusion on his face.

“Where’s Wyatt? Where are the girls?” he asked her, frowning. Teddy’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of her daughters, but she waved the question off.

“I promise, I’ll tell you both everything, but we have to get going,” she urged, and they all headed off to the wardrobe dock.

Merely ten minutes later, they were all climbing up into the Lifeboat. The air was thick with disappointment as the three time-travelers buckled in. Rufus spun in his seat, frowning softly at Lucy.

“Are you sure there’s no-” Lucy cut him off, holding her hand up, sighing deeply as she closed her eyes, blinking back tears.

“This is it, Rufus,” she muttered, turning to look at Teddy instead, whose expression mirrored their own despite never having met the girls. Or, maybe that was why he was just as upset; he’d never get to meet his superior’s family.

“I understand why you have to do this, Doc,” Teddy mumbled, tightening his harness. “But, I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Lucy nodded, grateful for his sympathy.

“Thank you, Teddy,” she whispered as Rufus threw the Lifeboat into gear and the machine whirred and hissed around them.

* * *

There was literally no reason why Emma should be here. Lucy was wracking her brain, trying to think of anything, anyone, that would be of importance to Emma or Rittenhouse in Dallas, Texas in 1947. She kept coming up empty, and Teddy had figured their best bet was to just tool around town, looking for signs of the devious redhead.

Lucy fanned herself as they walked through the streets of Dallas, taking in all the livelihood of the people around her. She suspected they all had families at home, waiting for them. They all had significant others, children, grandchildren, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers.

She cleared her throat, biting back a sob as she realized she wouldn’t have any of that waiting for her when she climbed out of the Lifeboat.

“Fancy meeting you here, Princess,” a chilling voice greeted the trio, and they all spun around, Teddy producing his - modern - gun instantly. Emma grinned at Lucy, her brow furrowed as she regarded the group in front of her. “Where’s our beloved soldier?” she asked, tilting her head. Teddy clicked the safety off, but Lucy laid a hand on his arm.

She’d prepared for this.

“Wyatt?” she asked, glaring at Emma. “He’s back home, thanks to you and your war zone,” she accused through gritted teeth. Emma seemed even more confused now, and Lucy hoped she’d remember it the way they left it. “Remember? You dropped a wall on him?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Did I?” she asked, and she was definitely confused now. “That was weeks ago,” she mumbled. Rufus stepped in, glaring at Emma as well, now.

“Nice time-travel humor, you red-headed demon, but he’s sitting in the infirmary right now, with cracked ribs and a broken arm,” he spat at her. Lucy bit back a chuckle at _red-headed demon_ , composing herself as it dawned on Emma.

They were back to the original timeline.

She nodded thoughtfully, smiling softly at Lucy. Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping she looked like the grieving friend and not like the woman who’d just given up the life she never knew she wanted.

She hoped she didn’t look like she’d just realized she’d already forgotten the taste of Wyatt on her tongue.

“Well, I’m sorry that our Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan couldn’t be with us today,” she replied, smirking at the trio. Lucy tightened her grip on Teddy’s arm as Emma pivoted on her heel and rushed away, disappearing into the crowd. He couldn’t shoot her down in the middle of the street like this. She was shocked no one had even reacted to him pulling his gun.

Lucy watched with a resigned sigh as Emma vanished from her view.

It was done.

She would go home, now, and Wyatt would be in the infirmary, and her girls would be nonexistent, and her sister would be missing, and her mother would be alive.

She must have looked as upset as she felt because she felt Rufus wrap his arm around her shoulders and tug her into him, hugging her tight. She let the tears fall, then, as Teddy rubbed her back, and her team let her fall apart, grieving a life she technically never had.

* * *

Lucy wasn’t nearly as anxious to get off the Lifeboat this time around, letting Rufus and Teddy slide out first. She stayed in her seat, her eyes closed, with her head resting on the back of her chair.

Maybe if she never got out of the Lifeboat, she could pretend that two small arms would wrap around her waist the minute her feet touched the ground, and her husband would be rushing out to greet her with a kiss, holding her close, thanking the heavens that she was okay.

“Luce,” Rufus’ voice stirred her out of her thoughts, and she looked up, allowing a glimmer of hope to run through her as he held a hand out to help her out of the Lifeboat. Teddy was there, too, smiling softly at her.

“Come on, Doc,” he urged, holding his hand out, too. Agent Christopher was frowning as both men helped her out of the Lifeboat.

Her feet touched the ground, but there was no small cry of twin voices shouting her name.

There was no Wyatt bursting through the conference room doors, or running from the computers with Jiya, pulling her into his arms and carding his fingers through her hair.

There was Jiya, frowning softly at Lucy, and Agent Christopher and Connor Mason, who were both looking at Lucy like she’d sprouted another head. She took a shaky breath, squeezing Teddy and Rufus’ hands before letting them go.

“Where’s Wyatt?” she asked, her voice strong.

* * *

Lucy paused at the door, as she’d done in that other timeline. God, it must have been months ago. If time was linear, how was he still injured after months had supposedly passed? She could see him through the window, messing with the remote, frowning at all the buttons. She stifled a giggle; it really was good to have her Wyatt back.

She pushed through the door, and his head snapped up, his blue eyes brighter than ever as she slowly made her way into the room.

“Lucy, thank god,” he breathed, and she paused at the foot of his bed, just staring at him. He was so much like _him_. She struggled to keep her breathing even as she walked to the side of his bed. He was watching her every move, like she was a skittish cat that he was afraid of scaring off.

Lucy reached out, wrapping her fingers around his left hand, lifting it up.

No wedding ring.

She took a deep breath, dropping his hand back to the bed, and taking a seat in the chair that she’d occupied only hours ago in this timeline. It had been a couple months for her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frowning softly at her. She took his hand in hers again, needing to feel anchored to something as the full realization that her girls were gone hit her. His fingers intertwined with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

He was letting her know that he was okay.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, and she was shocked by how thick her voice sounded. She cleared her throat, offering him a small smile. “Just glad to be home,” she lied. Wyatt smiled tightly at her, nodding toward the door.

“How was it? What happened?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Lucy couldn’t tell him.

She knew she’d promised the other Wyatt that she’d tell him how she felt, that she’d recreate that life in this timeline, but she couldn’t do it tonight. The wound was still fresh. Plus, she’d sound like a crazy person if she told him that she’d actually been gone for two months in an alternate timeline, married to him and raising their two daughters.

She silently wondered if she could ever tell him without risking the immediate request of psychiatric interference.

“We ran into Emma,” she supplied instead, shaking her head. “We didn’t catch her, but we fixed some things and saved history.” Wyatt nodded, smiling softly at her.

“Why do you look so sad?” he whispered, his hand leaving hers to brush his thumb across her cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. She really had missed him.

“I’m just tired,” she whispered as she opened her eyes, and he let his hand fall back to the bed, reaching for hers again. “I think I’m going to head home,” she muttered, standing up from her chair. “Get some rest.”

“You can sleep here,” he murmured, and she bit her tongue to keep the sob from escaping. That was too much like _him_. Lucy shook her head, taking his hand in both of hers, brushing her thumbs across the back of it.

“No, it’s okay. I need a bed,” she replied, being completely honest. She needed to be back in a semi-familiar place. Wyatt nodded as she dropped his hand and headed toward the door. “I’ll come back in the morning,” she promised, smiling tightly at him.

He was frowning, and she knew she wasn’t convincing him that she was fine; she knew he knew her better than that. But, he let her go, nodding slowly, offering her a small smile.

“I’ll have them send cinnamon rolls for breakfast,” he vowed, and Lucy grinned, her first real smile since stepping off the Lifeboat.

“I’ll be here for breakfast, then,” she promised, waving goodbye as she left the room.

Once she was in the hallway, she pressed herself up against the wall, sinking to the ground with her head in her hands.

They were officially gone. They were gone, and they were never coming back.

Rufus, who was on his way to Wyatt’s room, paused at the sight of her, sitting next to Wyatt’s door, shaking as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to overspill. He gently took a seat next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulders and tugging her to his side. Her arms went around his middle willingly as she buried her face in his shoulder and began to cry.

* * *

Rufus drove her home, and she told him all about Wyatt and his ringless finger and cinnamon rolls. He listened silently as he drove through the night, only pausing to rest a comforting hand on her knee as she cried over her nonexistent family.

“Luce, I know it’s a lot to take in,” he began, pulling into Wyatt’s apartment complex. “If you need a place to stay, to get away from everything, my door’s always open.” He turned to her, his expression soft and kind, and Lucy tilted her head, smiling genuinely at him.

“Thank you, Rufus,” she whispered, squeezing his hand in hers before pushing the car door open and emerging into the cool night air, her coat wrapped tightly around her. “Text me when you get home,” she demanded before she closed the car door. He honked once to signal he’d heard her, and drove off as she fit her key into the lock and opened the door.

Wyatt’s apartment was more or less the same as she’d left it, although she hadn’t been there in a couple months and had forgotten where all the proper switches were.

Once she’d figured out where the hall lights were located and had discerned the kitchen lights from the garbage disposal, she kicked her shoes off and padded softly to her room, vehemently ignoring the door across the hall from hers that was Wyatt’s room.

She couldn’t go in there.

Lucy gently pushed her bedroom door open, and was overcome by the intense familiarity of it. Her books were still stacked ten tomes high, with the alarm clock Wyatt had found in his things perched on top. Her recent research on Emma’s trips was still strewn across the dresser that sat opposite her bed, which was still made. Her pillows still smelled like Wyatt, from when he’d fallen asleep next to her the night before in this timeline, watching _Weapon of Choice_ on her laptop.

It was like no time had passed at all. Everything was just as she left it.

Surprisingly comforted by the fact that nothing had really changed, she quickly changed into her pajamas and slid under the covers, relishing in the crisp feeling of her sheets as she wrapped herself in the warmth of her bedspread.

Lucy lay in bed, in complete darkness, for some time, thinking of where she’d woken up that morning and where she was resting her head now, and how different both places had been.

She’d woken up naked, wrapped around Wyatt, earlier that morning, and now she was sleeping, fully clothed, wrapped around her pillow.

Despite the thoughts and feelings racing through her head, she sent a text to Wyatt, letting him know she got home safe, then promptly rolled over, clutching the pillow tightly to her chest, pretending it was Wyatt she was curling into, and fell fast asleep.

* * *

The scent of cinnamon rolls overwhelmed her senses when she walked into Wyatt’s room the next morning, finding Rufus already there. Both men wore serious looks on their faces as they glanced up at Lucy, and only Wyatt’s softened into a smile.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he murmured as she sat next to him, taking his hand in both of hers. Her eyes snapped up to meet his at the nickname. “Feeling better, today?” he asked, leaning toward her. She smiled softly, nodding.

“Yeah,” she lied, and Rufus glanced knowingly at her, tilting his head in her direction with a raised eyebrow. “I just needed some rest, that’s all. I’m good as new.” Wyatt nodded slowly, still smiling at her, but she knew he didn’t believe her.

How was she supposed to pretend everything was alright and completely normal when it meant she had to lie to the one person that knew her better than anyone else?

“Wyatt gets to go home,” Rufus supplied, interrupting their staring contest with a suppressed eye roll. That caught Lucy’s attention, and she squeezed his hand gently in both of hers.

“What? Why are they letting you go home so early?” she asked incredulously. Wyatt chuckled, shrugging.

“Maybe they’re letting me out on good behavior?” he guessed. “I only threatened to shoot the nurse once when they told me I had to wait a week before I could go on missions again.” Lucy frowned, shaking her head.

“Wyatt,” she admonished, and he smiled up at her. “If the doctors say you have to wait, then you have to wait. Teddy can keep going with us,” she whispered, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand.

Those hands had held her tight for two months, removed tangles from her hair, gripped her waist as his tongue invaded her mouth, brought her the most intense pleasure she’d ever felt as she’d writhed underneath him in their bed.

Lucy quickly dropped his hand, as if she’d been burned. She couldn’t do this right now.

“I’m gonna get some air,” she whispered, quickly heading for the door. She pressed herself up against the wall outside of Wyatt’s room, listening to him mutter to Rufus.

“You see it too, don’t you? Something’s wrong with her,” Wyatt breathed, and she stifled a sob as she realized her act wasn’t fooling him at all; how could it? “What happened on your mission?” he asked, and Rufus shifted in his seat, the fabric crinkling, the wooden legs of the chair creaking as he leaned forward.

“I think she needs to be the one to tell you that,” Rufus said simply before leaning back in his chair. Wyatt was silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, Lucy could hear the worry laced in his voice, could see his eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown in her mind’s eye.

“Did she get hurt?” he asked, and his voice was small, as if he already knew the answer and was dreading hearing it. Rufus sighed, and Wyatt shifted in his bed, sitting up straighter, perhaps.

“Yes,” Rufus replied. “But, not in the way you think.”

Lucy didn’t stick around to hear Wyatt’s response to that as Rufus’ admission resonated with her. She pushed her way outside, entirely desperate for the fresh air, now. She gulped in large breaths of it, letting it fill her senses, pretending that she was back in that other timeline, and she could go home right now and her girls and Wyatt would be there, waiting for her.

Overwhelmed with all the changes that had taken place, Lucy called a cab and spouted off the first address that popped into her head.

* * *

It was hours before Rufus found her, huddled on the front steps, under the cover of the front porch.

It was raining, but Lucy hadn’t seemed to notice. There was no furniture on the deck; the house was still on the market. The ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, by the pond where Wyatt taught Amelia how to fish, was like a stake driving through her heart, reminding her of what she’d lost.

What she’d, essentially, given up.

She didn’t stir as Rufus gingerly took a seat next to her, soaked from the rain that poured outside her little bubble. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she subconsciously leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they quietly watched the rain fall, creating puddles in the empty flowerbed.

Layla would’ve jumped in those.

Amelia would have told her what kinds of clouds were forming.

Wyatt would have held her and kissed her, and maybe once the girls had gone to sleep, they’d have disappeared under the covers of their bed and used the thunder as a cover of the sounds of their lovemaking. He would have held her close after, his fingers curled around her bare waist, pressing soft kisses into her hair, breathing her in as she fell asleep in his arms.

She turned her head further into Rufus’ shoulder and let herself cry one more time as the rain fell down around them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chuckles nervously* I actually wrote the bare bones of this hours after posting chapter 8 and then rewrote and edited it last night so I could post it today. DSW cut back my hours (finally) so I'll have some more free time this week. Expect updates more often!

Two days pass and all Lucy has the emotional capacity to do is sleep and eat just enough to keep herself alive.

It’s odd being in Wyatt’s kitchen without Wyatt, but it’s almost like living alone, and she’s beginning to dread what it will be like when he returns from the infirmary. Of course, she’ll worry about him constantly because if she knows Wyatt at all, he’ll make light of his injuries and try to do too much at once.

Rufus and Jiya stop by, and Jiya still doesn’t know why Lucy’s so upset, but she sees through her lies just as easily as Wyatt had.

Lucy’s also dreading having Wyatt back because she’s not sure she’ll be able to sleep in the same house as him again while keeping the friendly boundaries they’ve both wordlessly agreed on.

She’s not stupid; she knows her and Wyatt aren’t just friends. Far from it, in fact. That talk about ‘possibilities’ floats through her mind, more often now than before, and she tamps down any hope that rises from it. Nothing remotely pertaining to the possibilities he was seemingly willing to explore all those months ago has come up, and he’s pretty much been a boyfriend-without-benefits since finding out her mother’s involvement with Rittenhouse and deciding on his own that she was no longer safe.

She’d moved in with him, for goodness sake. They were _living_ together. Apart from Noah, she’d never lived with another man in her entire life, and Noah didn’t technically count since that hadn’t really been her.

Wyatt was the first and only man she’d ever willingly coexisted with.

It’s been three days since she was supposed to have cinnamon rolls at Wyatt’s bedside, since she found herself on the doorstep of her alternate home, when a key fits into the lock and the front door swings open, Wyatt pushing his way into the apartment, grunting as the heavy door falls back into his injured arm.

“Oh, my god!” Lucy immediately shoots up from the couch where she’d been researching historical points branching from Dallas 1947, forgetting for the moment that this isn’t her husband.

“Nope,” Wyatt mumbled as he hobbled his way through the door. “Just me,” he teased, smirking at her, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Lucy rolled her eyes as she carefully helped him to the couch.

“What are you doing here? I thought I was coming to get you tomorrow,” Lucy admonished as he sat back into the couch cushions with a low groan. She tried not to think about the last time she’d heard him groan like that, and what she’d been doing to elicit such a sound.

“Lucy, be honest,” he started, quirking an eyebrow up at her. “Did you _really_ think I was going to stay there for one more night?” He kicked his feet up on the table as Lucy sighed, frustrated with him. “Besides, they said I’m fine.”

“Oh, really?” Lucy asked, folding her arms across her chest and popping her hip out as she regarded him with raised eyebrows. “And, what did the doctors say, exactly?” He glanced up at her, and she could see the faint color in his cheeks as he avoided her gaze.

“I’m still grounded from missions for four more days,” he murmured, tilting his head onto his shoulder, turning towards her as she gingerly sat down beside him, watching him carefully. “But, they said I could go home as long as I stayed on bed rest.”

Lucy kept her eyes trained on his every move, solely attuned to every flinch he tried to hide from her as he tried to settle further back into the couch. She laid a hand gently over his arm, her thumb brushing back and forth soothingly.

It was exactly the same as the alternate timeline. She already knew how to handle a whining Wyatt in pain, and it was bound to be easier without two little girls to worry about.

That thought gave her pause, and she stiffened beside him, trying to compose herself. She moved to pull her hand from Wyatt’s arm, but he reached out, curling his fingers around hers.

“Lucy,” he breathed, and she closed her eyes, still absolutely in love with the way his voice caressed her name. “What’s going on with you?” he whispered, his hand gently squeezing hers. She sighed, choking back a sob as she remembered the other Wyatt whispering her name so reverently, and how she only wanted Wyatt, real or alternate, to say her name like that ever again.

She shook her head, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened and he pulled her into him.

“Rufus said you got hurt,” he whispered, pressing lips to her hair, and she shuddered at the familiar touch. “Who hurt you?” he asked, his voice strong. Lucy gently pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder, gazing up at him. His casted arm reached up to brush away the tears that had spilled over without her notice and she shook her head.

“It was more of a circumstance,” she quietly admitted, staring into space as she remembered the life she’d left behind. “Something happened, and it just made me realize some things.” Wyatt nodded, listening intently, and she absently wished he wasn’t so nice to her. It would be much easier to fall out of love with him if this Wyatt wasn’t so much like the other Wyatt.

She wanted to move closer, wanted to let him wrap her up in his arms, cry into his shoulder, unload all of her pain and grief on him. But, Emma’s threat rang in her ears; she’d kill Wyatt. Lucy had saved her daughters, but this Wyatt could still be in danger. She couldn’t allow herself to be with him until she’d gotten rid of Rittenhouse once and for all and had destroyed any possibility of having Wyatt taken from her in order for their plans to succeed.

“Are you okay?” he whispered as she continued to stare off into space, contemplating her life now. She nodded slowly, offering him a small smile. He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Please don’t lie to me, Lucy. You know I know you better than that,” he breathed, gazing at her.

A sob caught in Lucy’s throat as she looked at him, her eyes pooling with tears. “I can’t tell you everything,” she whimpered, the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks, and the pain in his eyes broke her heart even more. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt, but I just can’t right now.”

He nodded, shushing her as he pulled her back into his side, tucking his good arm tightly around her, and she let him. She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears staining his shirt.

“Just know,” he began, and his voice cracked, thick with emotion, and she felt terrible for making him feel responsible for her sadness. “When you’re ready to tell me, whoever it is that hurt you, I _will_ make them pay.” He spoke through gritted teeth, a stark contrast to the gentle circles he was rubbing into her back as she pressed herself against him. Lucy swallowed another sob, trying to control her tears, nodding absently into his shoulder.

* * *

A siren pulled Lucy out of a dead sleep, and she stirred, mumbling something about the window as she snuggled further into her pillow. Her pillow grunted as her arm collided with a soft shell, and her eyes slowly opened.

She was on the couch, though more accurately she was on top of Wyatt, his good arm holding her flush against his chest, his hand splayed across her back. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her elbow having nudged his casted arm accidentally in her sleep. She gently edged away, blushing as she felt the hardness in his jeans against her thigh.

Lucy carefully lifted herself off of him, trying not to jostle him as she stood from the couch. She stifled a yawn as she slowly padded her way into the kitchen, grabbing his pain medication and a glass of water from the fridge.

“Wyatt,” she whispered, walking back to the couch, leaning over him. He stirred, mumbling something incoherent, and she giggled, setting the water down on the coffee table. She leaned closer to him, tucking her hair behind her ear and gently shaking his shoulder. “Wyatt, come on,” she muttered a little louder.

He looked just as peaceful in his sleep as he did in the other timeline, and Lucy couldn’t resist the overpowering urge to gently brush his hair away from his forehead, her fingertips scratching gently across his scalp.

He moaned softly and Lucy quickly yanked her hand away before she lost control completely. Wyatt’s eyes blinked open and he smiled sleepily up at her. Her heart ached in her chest as she smiled back at him. His sleepy smiles had always been contagious.

“Who’s the Sleeping Beauty now?” she teased as he eased himself up into a sitting position. “Take your medicine,” she instructed, holding out the painkillers and the glass of water.

“Thanks, Luce,” he mumbled in a soft voice as he popped the pills into his mouth, swallowing them down with a gulp of water. She smiled as she sat beside him on the couch, patting his knee.

“You should drink all of that water,” she urged, gently pushing the glass back up to his lips. He chuckled into the water, but obliged, taking a longer sip. “I’m gonna head to bed in my room,” she whispered, and he nodded as she got up from the couch, making her way to her room. She could feel his eyes on her as she pushed her bedroom door open.

Lucy stood stock still in her room, listening to Wyatt move in the living room. The kitchen light flicked on as she heard him refill his glass of water to take to bed with him. The kitchen light turned off and she heard him slowly shuffle toward his room. She fiddled with the chain of her locket, a habit she’d let go of in the alternate timeline once she realized Amy was no longer lost. She didn’t let go of the breath she’d been holding until she heard his door close behind him, followed by the soft creak of bedsprings.

Lucy quickly changed into her pajamas, slipping underneath the sheets of her bed and turning out the light.

She tried to control herself as she realized her pillow still smelled like Wyatt.

* * *

Waking up hours later to the birds singing outside her window, clutching a pillow that smelled like Wyatt, was a rude awakening for Lucy. Her eyes snapped open, hoping that she’d somehow ended up in the other timeline again, and her pillow smelled like Wyatt because it was Wyatt.

Lucy frowned as she realized it was just a pillow and sat up in her bed, listening carefully for Wyatt’s gentle snores across the hall.

Nothing.

A million different scenarios flitted through Lucy’s mind as she carefully got up from her bed, her feet padding toward her door. What if Emma had gotten to him while she’d been asleep? What if he was already gone? What if she hadn’t been able to save him, no matter how hard she’d tried?

Panicking, she threw open her bedroom door, peeling out into the living room, looking around frantically. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here?

She tore through the apartment, yelling his name, her breaths coming in short, quick bursts as she collapsed onto the couch, her head in her hands.

He was gone.

She’d lost him. Somehow, and she wasn’t sure how exactly, she’d lost him despite trying to protect him. Emma must have gotten to him. There hadn’t been any broken glass, but she wasn’t in the right state of mind to be noticing details like that. How had she done it? Lucy’s vision began to blur, and she was vaguely aware of someone yelling her name, arms gripping her shoulders and pulling her into a firm, soft pillow.

Fingers gently carded through her hair and she struggled to catch her breath as the distinct scent of Wyatt overwhelmed her senses. Her fingers instantly curled around him and she buried her face in his chest as she struggled to control her breathing.

He was okay. He was safe.

He rocked her back and forth as she caught her breath, and she pulled away to look up at him, needing to see for herself that was real. He gently brushed her hair away from her face, frowning softly at her.

“Lucy, I understand that you can’t tell me everything,” he muttered, “but you need to tell me _something_ ,” he pleaded. “You’re starting to scare me.” She took a deep breath, pulling away, but his arms encircled around her didn’t let her go far. His blue eyes were clouded with worry, and she smiled gently at him.

“I was worried that Rittenhouse had come after you,” she admitted. His brow furrowed as he gazed down at her. She shook her head, brushing it off. “It was just a stupid dream I had, that they’d gotten you, and when I didn’t hear you snoring, I just assumed the worst and-”

“Panicked,” he finished softly for her, nodding. “That makes sense,” he muttered. Wyatt smirked down at her, tilting his head. “But, I don’t _snore_.” Lucy rolled her eyes, a genuine smile gracing her features.

“Yes, you _do_ , Wyatt. We’ve been over this,” she giggled, slapping his shoulder playfully. His arms had slid down to rest on her waist now, and her arms had somehow ended up wound around his neck as she smiled up at him.

It was the most at peace she’d felt in days.

His thumb brushed absently across the hem of her top as he smirked down at her. It would be so incredibly easy to just pull him closer, slide her fingers up into his hair, and drag his mouth down to hers. Maybe she would stop feeling so empty inside if she could use him to fill up all the spaces left hollow from leaving her family behind in the alternate timeline.

That wasn’t right, though.

She smiled stiffly at him then, gently pulling away out of his grasp. He cleared his throat, nodding to the research still strewn across the coffee table from yesterday afternoon.

“What are you working on?” he asked, and Lucy turned to glance over her work. She’d been researching Dallas in 1947, trying to figure out what Emma had been doing there. She hadn’t found them as quickly as she’d found them at Pearl Harbor, so that mission had been planned, but Lucy couldn’t figure out what for.

No one of any real importance had been in Dallas in 1947, as far as she could tell.

“Emma hasn’t taken the Mothership out since you got hurt,” Lucy murmured, reaching over to stack her research into a neat pile. “Well, besides the one mission we went on without you.” Wyatt nodded, frowning at her. “I think she knows you’re hurt,” she admitted quietly, glancing up at him.

“And she’s giving us all a break until I’m back in commission?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe?”

“Well, that’s kind of a relief, because I really don’t want you going on anymore missions without me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes soft as he watched her warily. She nodded.

“I can understand that,” she whispered. He leaned back into the couch, tucked against her side as she looked over her notes again.

“Teach me something, ma’am,” he teased her, and she smiled brightly as she glanced up at him. He grinned at her, folding his hands in his lap. She bit her lip, stifling a giggle.

“Alright,” she acquiesced. “What do you want to know?” He nodded toward her research again.

“What makes you think Emma wants to do something in Dallas in 1947?”

Lucy stiffened, her eyes going back to her research. “Oh,” she floundered, trying to think of a response. “Well, I mean, it’s just something she said on the mission we went on with Teddy.” Wyatt nodded for her to continue, but before she could, there was a knock on the door.

Wyatt was on his feet instantly, his hand moving to his side holster as he crept toward the door. Lucy sat stock still on the couch, her heart beating erratically as Wyatt pulled his gun out, edging toward the door.

“Guys, it’s me,” Rufus’ voice called from the other side of the door, and both Wyatt and Lucy instantly relaxed as Wyatt opened the door, tucking his gun back into his holster.

“We should come up with a secret knock or something so you don’t give us a heart attack every time you visit,” Wyatt mumbled as he let Rufus in before closing and locking the door securely behind him.

Rufus sat next to Lucy, smiling gently at her and she sighed, leaning into his shoulder.

“Secret knock sounds cool,” Rufus murmured as Wyatt took a seat on the arm of the couch. “Just wanted to see how you guys were holding up,” he admitted, turning to Lucy.

“Well, since you asked, I do have to use the bathroom,” Wyatt mumbled, and both Rufus and Lucy chuckled as he quickly made his way to the restroom.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Rufus turned toward Lucy. “Okay, what’s going on? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

Lucy took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t do this, Rufus,” she whispered, her voice catching again. “I just can’t, it’s so hard being around him and knowing he’s not really _him_. I have all these memories of us being together, and being with the girls, and they all mean nothing, now.” Lucy shook her head as Rufus’ arm curled around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I don’t know if I can keep up this charade that everything is okay.”

“I meant what I said before, Luce,” he murmured. “If you need a place, my door is always open.” Lucy nodded, glancing up at him. “It might be easier to be around Wyatt on missions if you aren’t living with him,” he trailed off.

Lucy bit her lip, thinking it over. Rufus definitely had a point; she would be able to keep Wyatt safe as long as she kept her distance and let Rittenhouse believe they weren’t anything more than colleagues.

Before she could respond, the bathroom door opened and Wyatt was back. She smiled warmly at him as he took a seat beside her, asking what he missed. Lucy exchanged a look with Rufus.

Though she didn’t particularly like it, she knew what she had to do.

* * *

In the interest of full disclosure, and because Wyatt refused to rest if Lucy was around, Rufus and Lucy left to meet up with Jiya and tell her why Lucy was suddenly moving in with her boyfriend.

“Hey, guys,” Jiya greeted them as they slid into their regular booth at Portola’s. Jiya kissed Rufus quickly, snuggling into his side as Lucy sat stiffly opposite the pair. “What’s up? What did you want to talk to me about?”

Rufus nodded expectantly at Lucy and she took a deep breath, placing her hands on the table to stifle the shaking. Jiya frowned, turning to face Lucy as she cleared her throat and began.

“While Wyatt was hurt, Teddy came with us on our mission, as you know,” Lucy muttered, and when Jiya nodded, she continued. “Well, we haven’t been entirely forthcoming about what happened on that mission. The truth is, we haven’t been back for months.”

“What?” Jiya frowned, chuckling softly. “What do you mean ‘months’? You were only gone for eighteen hours.” Lucy shook her head sympathetically.

“No, we were gone for about two months, in an alternate timeline.”

Jiya stiffened at that and Rufus threw a comforting arm over her shoulder, rubbing her arm gently. Lucy struggled to hold back a wistful sigh as she remembered how Wyatt would comfort her in a similar way.

“I don’t understand,” Jiya murmured. “If you’ve been gone for two months, where have you been? How did you get back?”

“That’s the tricky part,” Rufus supplied. He turned to Lucy, noticing her shaking had gotten somewhat worse. “Do you want me to tell her?” he asked softly. Lucy looked up at him, her eyes wide with unshed tears.

“No,” she croaked before clearing her throat. “No, I have to do this.” Rufus nodded and they both waited patiently for Lucy to continue.

“In this alternate timeline, I was married,” Lucy paused a tear sliding down her cheek as she allowed, for the first time in days, the full force of those memories to hit her. “To Wyatt,” she whispered, looking down at the table. She heard Jiya shift in her seat but didn’t look up. “We had two daughters, Amelia and Layla. Amelia was seven and the most brilliant seven-year-old I’ve ever met,” Lucy chuckled. “And Layla was five and about to start Kindergarten, and she was so excited to go to school like her big sister.”

“Lucy,” Jiya whispered, and Lucy glanced up to see Jiya’s expression matched her own. Wide-eyed with tears dripping down her cheeks. Jiya tentatively reached a hand out, resting it on top of Lucy’s.

“Amy was alive again,” Lucy continued, smiling softly as she remembered her baby sister telling zombie princess stories and cleaning her house to make her feel better. “And I was _happy_.” Her voice broke on that last part and Jiya quickly pushed past Rufus to slide into Lucy’s booth, hurriedly taking her friend in her arms.

“Lucy, I’m _so_ sorry,” Jiya whispered as she folded Lucy into a hug, rubbing her back up and down as Lucy cried into her shoulder. Rufus watched with a pained expression, hating to see two women he cared about deeply, albeit in very different ways, in so much pain.

“And now, Lucy’s living with Wyatt again,” Rufus continued while Lucy attempted to catch her breath. “And you can see what’s wrong with that situation,” he trailed off, nodding at Lucy. Jiya nodded, eyes wide as she worried over Lucy.

“Well, you can stay with me, if you’d like?” Jiya offered, smiling gently as Lucy pulled away to look at her friend. “I’ve got a comfy couch and I’m not too far from Mason Industries.” Jiya playfully rolled her eyes and nodded at Rufus. “Plus, thanks to him, I’ve got twenty-four-hour security detail. We’ll be completely safe from… them,” Jiya choked out, still not comfortable with speaking the name in public.

The name gave it power, and they already had so much power over Lucy and the rest of the team.

Lucy and Rufus exchanged a look and silently agreed that was the best idea for Lucy. “Thanks, Jiya,” she whispered and Jiya pulled her in for another hug, smiling.

* * *

Lucy waited anxiously in the living room for Wyatt to wake up from his nap. Rufus had already packed up some of her things and loaded them into his car. She kept delaying leaving, wanting to say goodbye to Wyatt first.

“Hey,” his sleepy voice croaked, stifling a yawn, and she turned around to see him emerging from his room, running a hand through his hair.

Oh, how badly she wanted to fix that mess right now. She clenched her fist in her jacket pocket to keep herself from brushing her fingers through his hair one last time, fluffing the soft strands until they parted properly and lay mostly flat. She wanted to stroke his jaw, run her fingertips down his bare chest, feel his hands against her skin again.

She fisted her other hand in her pocket, smiling stiffly at him as he noticed her duffel bag sitting in front of her.

“Wyatt, I need to be honest with you,” she whispered, and he frowned, coming to stop at the foot of the table, and it was too much like when she left Noah. She had to tell him the real truth. “I’m still not quite ready to tell you _what_ happened on that mission,” she began, taking a deep breath, “but, something _did_ and it’s been really hard for me to move past it.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft, and she didn’t try to stop the sob from bubbling up this time, letting her tears fall hard and fast. She shook her head, sniffling.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m not okay. I need some time and space to muddle through everything, and I just,” she paused, looking around. “I can’t do that _here_.” Wyatt frowned worriedly at her, but nodded his understanding. Lucy sniffled, pretending not to notice how his hand flinched when another tear slipped down her cheek.

Distance.

She needed distance, and he could understand that.

“Where will you go?” he asked quietly, glancing down at her things.

“Jiya’s offered me her couch until I can find a place of my own,” Lucy explained, wiping her tears away. “You know how worried Rufus is about her, so he’s already got twenty-four-hour security on her apartment. I’ll be safe.” Wyatt nodded stiffly.

“I’ll talk to Agent Christopher and see about having someone else put on so you’ll be safer,” he muttered, looking down at the table, and Lucy nodded, stifling a soft laugh at how overprotective he was of her. “I know you need space, but if you ever decide to come ho-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat, and Lucy’s heart shattered in the heavy pause. “To come back,” he amended, “you’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Lucy whispered, curling her fingers tightly around the strap of her duffel and sliding it over her shoulder as she moved out from behind the table. Wyatt moved with her and they met in the middle, his arms immediately wrapping around her, pulling her close.

“Take care of yourself, Luce,” he whispered, dropping a kiss to her hair, and she didn’t stop herself from pushing up onto her toes and pressing her lips against his cheek. She could feel his arms tighten around her as she made contact, and heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Goodbye, Wyatt,” she whispered in his ear, her nose brushing his jaw.

Lucy turned and left his apartment before she could see his reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait until season 2 and Wyatt starts calling her 'Luce' because I'll die that day. It's definitely my favorite headcanon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa. What a week this has been. First, the devastating news that we'd been canceled, and then I'd thrown myself into the #SaveTimeless campaign. I spent the last few days contacting a bunch of networks and setting up voting systems for Netflix and Hulu to pick the show up. Then, I took a break to see my best friend graduate. 
> 
> And then, after she'd JUST walked across the stage, Kripke tweeted that photo, Matt said he had an announcement, and the Writers Room revealed it: we'd been picked up!
> 
> Season 2 coming sometime in 2018! I'll TAKE it!
> 
> SO thrilled this show is coming back, and it's all because of the fans and our passion for this show and these characters. 
> 
> This chapter is later than I'd promised because it became increasingly difficult to write (I've decided that I don't like Wyatt and Lucy not being together, which is why this is shorter than most chapters) and then all the cancellation drama happened and I had to help save the show as best I could. 
> 
> Never fear! I did promise an update before I went to work on Monday, and I don't leave for work until 7am! ;)

The strawberry scent of the girls’ shampoo filled Lucy’s nostrils as her eyes snapped open. She was in Jiya’s apartment, on the couch, where she’d been for over a week now. Emma hadn’t touched the Mothership in all that time, giving Lucy a substantial amount of time to properly grieve.

Jiya was very clearly worried about her, and Lucy wished she could reassure her that she was fine without sounding like she was lying through her teeth. The truth was, though, that most nights she’d wake up gasping Wyatt’s name or calling out for the girls.

She’d started seeing them in her dreams, just as she’d seen this Wyatt in the alternate timeline, and it was affecting her sleeping patterns.

Lucy slowly sat up, glancing around the living room. The Andy Warhol-esque painting of Spock’s sign did wonders to brighten her mood, and she quickly realized she was completely alone in the space; the apartment was dead silent.

Jiya had been trying to coax more answers out of Lucy lately, and Lucy had tried to explain the circumstances, and that the life hadn’t really been taken from her.

She’d walked away, technically, in order to save her family.

Looking back now, though, Lucy wished she could go back and change it all, and how funny of a thought that was seeing as she actually _did_ have access to a time machine that could do just that. She wondered if this was how Wyatt felt, knowing he had the power to prevent his wife’s death, and not being able to take advantage of it.

She wondered, briefly, if this is how Flynn felt when he’d first stolen the Mothership. He’d only ever wanted to bring his family back; destroying Rittenhouse with the help of Lucy’s future journal had just been another piece of the plan.

Lucy was startled out of her thoughts by her phone ringing. She picked up on the first ring, “Hello?”

“Hey,” his gruff voice sounded over the line, and Lucy quelled the sense of pure safety she felt whenever he spoke. He cleared his throat, and she could hear the frown in his voice when he asked her, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yeah, sorry, I just woke up.” She hadn’t spoken to Wyatt in a week, apart from letting him know that she’d made it to Jiya’s alright that first night.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m cleared to head back out,” he murmured, and she pressed the earpiece harder to her ear, trying to focus on his hushed voice. “If our theory is correct, Emma will be taking the Mothership out soon enough.” Lucy nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see her.

“Oh, right,” she agreed. “Yeah, she’ll be heading back out there once she’s gotten word. Should we just go to Mason Industries now?” she asked, frowning as she pulled a hoodie on over her tank top.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, and she could _hear_ him shrugging through the phone. “Is Jiya there?”

“No,” Lucy muttered, glancing around, suddenly self-conscious about being alone. Wyatt audibly stiffened, and she heard him shuffling back and forth, probably nervously pacing the area around the couch, going in circles around the coffee table like he did late at night when they were brainstorming potential places Emma could be planning to go.

“I could come get you,” Wyatt offered, and Lucy shut her eyes.

She wanted to say yes.

She wanted to be near him again, to smell his scent, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her, to ward off this pain that had set in over the past week of not being near him _at all_.

She knew better, though.

Before she could make any decisions, however, the apartment door burst open and after Lucy got over her initial shock and had assured Wyatt that she was fine, Jiya had grabbed her coat and ushered Lucy toward the door.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Emma had just taken the Mothership.

The surprise was her destination: September 19, 1959. Fort Worth, Texas.

* * *

Lucy dusted her dress off as Wyatt helped her slide down the front of the Lifeboat. Rufus was already looking around in the wooded area they’d landed in, gauging how far away from town they were. Both men turned expectantly to Lucy as she frowned.

“So, any ideas?” Wyatt asked gently as Lucy bit her lip and followed Rufus out of the trees and toward a road that would take them to civilization. Lucy shrugged, her shoulder nudging against Wyatt’s as he walked close beside her.

Having him so near instantly calmed her down, and she tried to ignore that feeling. She wasn’t helping her case at all; if Emma saw him so close to her, she’d think something was up.

“How long has Emma been here?” Lucy asked for the fifth time since hearing the date the woman had traveled to. Nothing of too much importance happened in 1959 in Texas, and certainly not in Fort Worth.

“About three hours, I think,” Rufus replied, pausing as the main part of town came into view.

Lucy wasn’t paying attention anymore.

At that moment, a little girl with dark curls and a lithe figure had emerged from a building, laughter bubbling up as she ran further into town, her skirt swishing around her as she pumped her arms and legs. The scent of strawberry shampoo wafted through the air and assaulted Lucy with memories of a life that had once been hers.

“Amelia,” Lucy whispered, her eyes widening as she watched the girl run away. Rufus perked up at that, catching a glimpse of the girl before Lucy took off after her. “Amelia!”

“Whoa, Luce,” she heard Wyatt exclaim behind her, but she didn’t care that she’d just worried them. Amelia was around the corner.

She ran straight to the little girl, who’d stopped by a milk truck to catch her breath, and dropped to her knees, taking the girl into her arms, looking wildly at her.

Not Amelia.

The girl, to her credit, didn’t seem too shaken up by the strange woman grasping her shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes. The emerald green staring back at her was like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her, and Lucy jumped back a bit, startled by the stark contrast of what she’d been expecting.

“Lucy,” Wyatt whispered, breathing hard from running after her. She turned and saw what she’d hoped to find on the girl in front of her: Wyatt’s bright blue eyes, staring back at her.

But, not on the girl.

“Excuse me,” a woman stepped in, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder, her green eyes matching the girl’s perfectly. Lucy pulled away from the little girl, easing back on her knees as she looked up at the woman. “Are you alright?” she asked gently, and Lucy frowned softly, startled by the kindness and gentle tone in the woman’s voice.

“Yes,” Lucy whispered, her throat dry from the hope that her daughter had somehow been returned to her. “I’m fine,” she insisted, but her eyes kept going back to the girl’s face.

It was just the eyes. Everything else considered, she could be Amelia’s twin.

“Have you lost someone?” the woman urged gently, and Lucy looked up at her, her eyes instantly filling with tears as she realized the truth.

Yes, she had.

She’d lost quite a few someones.

Lucy nodded slowly, letting the tears spill over. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice catching on a sob and she hung her head, trying to hide her tears rolling down her cheeks. She could feel Wyatt’s frown focused on her, along with Rufus’ sympathetic gaze. A pair of small arms suddenly wrapped around Lucy’s shoulders, and the scent of strawberry shampoo filled her senses as a warm body pressed itself against her in an embrace.

That was too much.

Lucy immediately hugged the girl back, crying into her hair as her mother rubbed Lucy’s shoulders soothingly. It was too much like her Amelia hugging her only weeks ago, after Lucy had gone insane with worry that the girls had been erased while her and Wyatt had been gone.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, drawing strength from the small child as she’d drawn strength from her daughter, but it was quite some time before Lucy stopped crying and relinquished her hold on the girl.

“Thank you,” Lucy mumbled and the little girl helped pull her to her feet, shrugging as she smiled up at Lucy.

“I’m sorry you were so sad, ma'am,” the girl muttered, and Lucy glanced up at Wyatt at the nickname, foreign to her on anyone else’s lips but his own. He was watching her carefully, still frowning gently at her, but seeming to have put the pieces together. Lucy nodded at the girl, smiling gently before turning to her mother, shaking her hand.

“Thank you,” Lucy repeated, gesturing to the girl. “You’ve raised an incredibly kind daughter,” she praised and the woman nodded, smiling warmly.

“What was her name?” she prompted, a crinkle forming between her eyebrows. Lucy almost corrected her with ‘their names’, but Wyatt was still in earshot. She took a deep breath, smiling at the woman.

“Amelia,” she replied. “Her name was Amelia.” The woman nodded, squeezing Lucy’s hand in both of hers.

“I’m sorry, dear,” the woman replied, and Lucy gently waved it off. The women bade each other goodbye and Lucy turned back to Rufus and Wyatt.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked, his hand coming up to gently rest on her shoulder, his thumb brushing back and forth. Lucy nodded, wiping her eyes. Rufus knew better, though, and quickly wrapped an arm around Lucy’s shoulders, tugging her into his side.

“You’ll get through this,” he promised her, pulling her close. Lucy nodded, resting her head on his shoulder as she reached back to wrap her fingers around Wyatt’s, tugging him along with them. Wyatt went willingly, his hand slipping into hers and holding on tight.

It was just what she needed.

“Wait,” Wyatt barked, holding a hand out to stop Lucy and Rufus. They both looked up, following his wide-eyed gaze.

Emma.

She was talking to a young man who looked vaguely familiar, but Lucy couldn’t put her finger on where she knew him from. He was speaking emphatically toward Emma, making wild hand motions as Emma regarded him casually, nodding every now and then.

“Quick, before she sees you,” Wyatt whispered, tugging Lucy behind a building not far from them and Rufus followed. They were still out of earshot, but the team could see her clearly enough to know that the man was arguing with her, and she was winning. She took a step closer to him, speaking very carefully, watching the man’s reaction.

The tips of his ears reddened instantly, and Emma smirked.

“Who do you think he is?” Wyatt whispered, and Lucy held back an involuntary shiver at the feel of his breath so close to her neck. She shook her head, watching the pair converse.

“I’m not sure, but he seems familiar,” Lucy muttered, and Wyatt squeezed her hand. Emma turned, then, leaving the young man alone to process whatever she’d just told him.

“Think it’s safe to go talk to him?” Rufus asked, watching Emma disappear down the road, away from town. Lucy glanced at Wyatt who was frowning at the entire spectacle. The whole thing had been odd; Emma hadn’t done anything, and now she was apparently heading back to the present.

“Yeah,” Wyatt breathed, pushing Lucy behind him as he moved away from the wall. “Just stay close, both of you.”

He didn’t let go of her hand as they made their way over to the young man. “Excuse me,” Lucy called out over Wyatt’s shoulder, getting the man’s attention. “That woman you were just speaking with, what did she say to you?”

“She just told me to stop what I was planning,” he muttered, looking down at the ground. Wyatt tightened his grip on Lucy’s hand, urging her to stay behind him.

“And who are you?” Wyatt asked, eyeing the man carefully. The man glanced up, gnawing on his cheek.

“Name’s Lee,” he replied, and his eyes locked with Lucy’s. “Lee Oswald.”

Rufus audibly gasped behind her as Lucy squeezed Wyatt’s hand. Lee Harvey Oswald. The same Lee Harvey Oswald that would assassinate President John F. Kennedy in 1963. Lucy could feel her breath coming fast and her other hand came up to clutch Wyatt’s shoulder as she tried to focus her eyesight.

His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him as she braced herself against his back, peering over his shoulder at the future murderer.

“What are you planning?” Wyatt asked, only half paying attention now that Lucy was nearly catatonic with fear. He quickly nodded at Rufus to start edging away, prepared to grab Lucy and run if they needed to. Lee shrugged.

“None of your business,” he spat, glaring at Wyatt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m here to spend time with my mother before I leave.” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Wyatt watched him turn the corner and once Lee was out of sight, both Wyatt and Rufus lunged for Lucy, helping her stand as her knees weakened.

“Where’s he going?” Wyatt asked her as he wrapped his arm tight around her waist, his other hand reaching up to brush her hair out of her eyes. Rufus braced himself behind her, ready to catch her if she fainted.

“He’s shipping out to Russia tomorrow,” she muttered under her breath, swaying on the spot. Wyatt tightened his grip on her waist, his other arm sweeping under her legs, hoisting her into his arms. She automatically wound her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder as she tried to control her breathing. She inhaled his scent and it calmed her down instantly, though it also dredged up memories of early morning showers with his body wrapped around hers, his arms strong on her back, holding her steady as they made love in the warm spray.

She picked her head up off of his shoulder, her cheeks coloring at the memory.

“Why’s he going to Russia?” Wyatt prompted, and she noticed that they’d begun moving while she’d been reminiscing and were heading back toward the cover of the trees outside of town. Lucy yawned involuntarily, hiding her face in Wyatt’s shoulder again. He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Get some sleep, Luce,” he whispered, tucking her close as they continued their long trek back to the Lifeboat.

* * *

For the first time in a week, Lucy slept soundly, tucked in Wyatt’s arms, and stayed asleep through him buckling her into her seat in the Lifeboat, and didn’t wake until Jiya’s voice penetrated her dreamless slumber. Her eyes blinked open, squinting up in the bright lights of Mason Industries.

Wyatt was holding her again, smiling down at her, and Lucy yawned as Jiya breathed a sigh of relief.

“Finally got some sleep, huh?” Jiya asked as Wyatt gently set Lucy on her feet. Lucy stiffened as she waited for Wyatt’s response.

“Wait,” he began, and she busied herself with smoothing down her dress, studiously avoiding his gaze. “You haven’t been sleeping?”

Lucy shrugged, and the gesture was so childlike that she almost laughed.

“She’s been through a lot,” Jiya rushed to cover for her. “The last mission was a lot for her to handle, and she’s just getting over it.” Lucy was grateful for Jiya as she wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her to the wardrobe dock, away from Wyatt’s concerned frown. “She’s fine, Wyatt, I promise. I’m taking good care of her.”

Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that as she yawned again. “I’m not a child,” she murmured. Jiya chuckled, helping Lucy into her changing room.

“I’m glad you finally got some rest,” Jiya whispered, handing Lucy her clothes from earlier before pushing her through the door. Lucy chuckled on the other side as she quickly changed out of her 50’s dress and back into her sweatpants and hoodie. She leaned up against the door, the image of Amelia’s little doppelganger still in the forefront of her mind.

She missed her girls.

She missed Wyatt, even though he was mere feet away from her.

She missed Amy.

Lucy closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself before the tears started flowing. It was no use; she felt the first sob bubble up and had no control from there. At some point, Jiya must have pushed her way into the changing room because the next thing she knew, Lucy was being pulled up from the floor, small hands wrapping around her wrist, and a strong arm holding her waist.

“Lucy, talk to me,” Rufus urged as he quickly helped her sit down on a bench outside of the changing room. “What happened?” he asked Jiya, who shrugged helplessly, her hands still grasping Lucy’s wrist.

“Maybe she’s over-tired?” Jiya suggested, then ducked her head, trying to hide her words from Lucy. “She hasn’t been sleeping,” she muttered. Rufus nodded stiffly then motioned for Jiya to let him speak to Lucy in private.

“Okay, Luce,” Rufus murmured once he was certain that they were alone. “You can tell me. What’s going on?”

Lucy bit her lip, her sobs subsiding as she stared at the floor, completely silent.

“Lucy, why did you think that girl was Amelia?” Rufus asked softly. Lucy’s head shot up at the mention of her daughter, and her eyes filled to the brim with tears all over again.

“Rufus, I made a mistake,” she breathed, sniffling. “I don’t know if I made the right choice, leaving them there to disappear,” she confessed, and Rufus nodded sympathetically as Lucy sniffled again. “I thought it’d be better than dying, but maybe I could have done more? Maybe I could have saved them and still kept them.” Lucy chewed her lip as she worked through the doubts clouding her mind.

“Lucy, you and I both know that even though you _wanted_ that life to be real,” he paused, sighing deeply. “It wasn’t. It wasn’t a real life, and it wasn’t _your_ life.” He laid a hand on her knee, his thumb brushing back and forth gently, soothingly. “You did the right thing,” he assured her.

Lucy shook her head minutely, a plan already forming in her mind. She wanted them back. She could find another way to protect her family from Emma; she and Wyatt could work together to save their daughters. She had to find a way to get them back, first, though.

The answer came to her so suddenly she was sure that she had visibly sat up straighter.

Both times she’d switched timelines, Wyatt hadn’t been with her.

_All she had to do was time-travel without Wyatt._

“No,” Rufus breathed, his eyes wide as he watched Lucy’s expression perk up, her eyes widening comically as she realized what she had to do. He had realized it at the same time. “No, Lucy. Not happening.”

“Rufus, it’s the only way to get them back. Please,” she whispered, grasping his hand in both of hers, squeezing gently. Rufus shook his head, his eyes not leaving hers. He wore a hard expression, firm in his decision.

“No, Lucy, no way!” Rufus stood up, walking away from Lucy as he shook his head emphatically.

“Please, Rufus, I just want my family back,” Lucy pleaded as Rufus paced in front of her bench.

“We don’t know that it would even work,” he muttered, then stopped, turning to face her. “Plus, time travel is not something that should be played with. You, of all people, should know that.” He sat back down on the bench. “What if we change too much? What if you erase Wyatt altogether? Or you end up not having daughters? Or _you_ end up not existing?” He shook his head again, his eyes full of sympathy. “Lucy, there’s just too much that could go wrong. We can’t risk it.”

He was right, of course.

She knew he was.

“Yeah,” Lucy whispered, nodding slowly. “You’re right, there’s too much at stake.” She smiled softly, standing from the bench, and he followed suit, a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think you could give me a ride back to Jiya’s? I think she left without me.” Rufus nodded and led her out to his car.

* * *

Rufus had seen Lucy safely inside, then stayed for a couple hours, chatting with both Lucy and Jiya, carefully avoiding any topics pertaining to their discussion from earlier. He kept a close eye on Lucy, but she seemed fine, save for the evident exhaustion in her eyes.

He’d just kissed Jiya goodbye and was leaving her apartment when Wyatt had texted him, asking him to meet him at their regular bar.

Wyatt was nursing a glass of whiskey at the bar when Rufus walked in twenty minutes later. He grabbed the seat next to Wyatt, gesturing for the bartender to grab him his regular beer. Wyatt nodded his acknowledgment that Rufus had arrived, downing the rest of his whiskey. He signaled for more and turned to Rufus.

“Lucy hasn’t been sleeping,” he blurted out, and Rufus’ confused frown softened as he saw how worried Wyatt clearly was for their teammate. “Jiya told me. She’s not sleeping, and I can’t help her because she won’t talk to me.”

“Wyatt,” Rufus sighed, nodding his thanks to the bartender as he placed his beer in front of him and removed Wyatt’s empty glass, presumably to refill it. “Lucy will tell you-”

“When she’s ready, I know,” Wyatt finished, huffing. Rufus nodded sympathetically. “Rufus, I’m worried _now_. Why isn’t she sleeping?”

The bartender returned with a full glass of whiskey for Wyatt, along with his bill so far, and Wyatt immediately took a sip.

“And that whole 'Amelia’ thing,” Wyatt continued, frowning down into the amber liquid, swirling it around his glass. “At first, I thought she meant 'Amy’, but I’m not so sure of that now,” Wyatt trailed off, turning to face Rufus head on, his gaze stony and determined. “Rufus. You need to tell me.” Wyatt sat up straight, gritting his teeth. “What happened on that mission?”

Rufus floundered for an answer that wouldn’t upset Lucy if she found out Wyatt knew. His phone ringing saved him and he sent a silent thank you up to whoever was apparently watching over him as he pulled his phone out.

“I don’t know where she went. I came out to get a glass of water, and the sheets are a mess and her blanket’s on the floor, but she’s not in the bathroom and she’s not on the balcony,” Jiya blurted as soon as he’d answered the call. Rufus sat up straight, frowning.

“Jiya, what are you talking about? Who’s not there?” he asked, confused. Wyatt straightened even more in his seat, leaning toward Rufus.

“Lucy,” Jiya breathed, and he could hear the panic in his girlfriend’s voice. “Lucy, she’s gone. She’s not in this apartment, and the guy who stands outside our door hasn’t seen her. She snuck out, somehow.”

“Lucy’s gone?” Rufus clarified, looking up at Wyatt. He was on his feet in an instant, tossing a few bills onto the bar and swinging his coat on. Rufus held a hand out to stop him.

“Rufus, we have to find her. I don’t care if she’s avoiding me, I need to know she’s safe,” Wyatt spat, moving past Rufus, but Rufus caught his arm.

“No, Wyatt,” he called out, speaking to both Jiya and Wyatt at the same time. “I know where she is.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how you plan and plan and plan and write out all these timelines and fill journals with a structured story...
> 
> And then, you go to actually write it all out, and your characters just kind of say, "Nah, we'll take it from here," and all of that careful planning goes right out the window?
> 
> Well, this isn't how this was supposed to end. I'm not sure when the next update will be. I suppose the time team will let me know.

This was so unlike her.

_Wyatt_ was the reckless hothead, not Lucy. Lucy wasn’t the kind of person to sneak out of her apartment, break into Mason Industries, and configure the autopilot function for the Lifeboat as she’d heard Jiya mention was now possible a few days ago. She wasn’t the type of person to steal a time machine in order to get her family back. That was crazy; that was _insane_.

And, yet.

Lucy took a deep breath as she quickly set the course for anywhere, anytime, just needing to go somewhere without Wyatt so she could return to a timeline that, hopefully, resulted in two pairs of small arms wrapping around her and a firm kiss.

She climbed up into the Lifeboat, and arms wrapped around her waist all too soon.

They weren’t small, though.

“No,” she gasped, kicking at her captor, recognizing him almost instantly by the smell of his body wash mixed with the faint aroma of whiskey on his breath, achingly familiar. “Let me go! I have to go!”

Wyatt was stronger than her, though, and she’d always known that. She was fighting a losing battle, but she kept fighting. She kicked her legs and thrashed her arms, trying to escape from his hold. She spat profanities, another very-unlike-Lucy thing to do, but she was desperate. She was a desperate mother trying to get back to her children.

“Lucy, it’s okay,” he breathed into her hair as he struggled to keep a firm hold on her, and that was all it took. She went limp in his arms, the tears coming hard and fast. What was she thinking, stealing the Lifeboat? She could’ve been kicked off the team. She could’ve come back to a timeline where she didn’t exist, or where neither Wyatt or the girls existed at all.

She vaguely remembered Rufus saying something to a similar effect but the wave of emotions she was riding was too chaotic for her to focus on that.

Wyatt held her close as she finally turned in his arms, burying her face in his shirt, and _god_ how did he always smell so damn good? The scent overwhelmed her senses and filled her with a sense of calm that she’d been unable to achieve since leaving his apartment a week ago. She cried until there was nothing left, and he held her through it all, his hands rubbing up and down her back and softly running through her hair, working out the messy tangles and kinks. He whispered words of comfort into her hair. He kissed the top of her head, resting his chin on it as he rocked her back and forth as she cried.

Eventually, there were no more tears, and when her sobs had subsided to a sniffle every few moments, Wyatt finally spoke louder than a whisper.

“Where were you going, Luce?” he asked, his voice strong but still soft. He didn’t seem angry, or accusatory. He seemed worried, if Lucy was being completely honest.

She wished he’d stop worrying about her so much. Someday, it would be his downfall.

“I finally understand,” she began softly, sniffling as she lifted her face from his chest, meeting his eyes. “Flynn’s motivation to murder through time to get his girls back.” Wyatt’s expression stayed the same, and she wondered if he’d already figured it out somehow. Wyatt was infinitely smarter than he gave himself credit for.

“Lucy, who’s Amelia?” he asked gently, his eyes boring into hers. She wanted to look away, the brightness of the blue that consistently captivated her a painful reminder of what hadn’t been in that little girl’s eyes. She couldn’t, though. She never could.

Lucy sighed, blinking up at him.

“Amelia’s my daughter,” she whispered, watching his reaction. He stiffened, and she could feel it in the way he continued to hold her, and she broke their gaze as she closed her eyes, unable to continue with him looking at her like that. “Amelia and Layla. They were my daughters.”

“You had daughters?” Wyatt asked quietly, and she could hear the frown in his voice as she blinked her eyes open at him. “What happened to them?”

“Wyatt,” Lucy whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “When Rufus, Teddy, and I first took the Lifeboat out on that mission, after you got hurt,” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat, “we came back to a different timeline.” Wyatt nodded stiffly, his arms still wound tightly around her, almost painfully.

“So, you went back to a timeline where you had daughters,” Wyatt muttered, and his expression was unreadable, which was disconcerting given how much of an open book Wyatt seemed to be. He wore his heart on his sleeve around Lucy, and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him.

“Yes,” Lucy nodded, and now that she had _finally_ told him, she couldn’t seem to stop; the rest simply poured out of her. “I was married with two daughters, and Amy was back, and my mother was dead, and Emma was still Rittenhouse, and we still chased after her.” Wyatt nodded slowly, taking it all in. Lucy took a deep breath, waiting for him to respond. “Wyatt, say something, please.”

“So, were you going back?” he asked, his voice rough. “To your husband and kids,” he clarified and Lucy nodded solemnly.

“I was going to try,” she whispered, fresh tears lining her eyes as she blinked up at him. “Rufus and Jiya figured out a way to autopilot the Lifeboat a few days ago. I heard Jiya talking about it the other night when she thought I was asleep.”

“But, you haven’t been sleeping,” Wyatt muttered and she shrugged, not wanting to get into that. “Lucy, I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but what if it hadn’t worked?”

He was right.

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

But, that didn’t take away from the fact that he had a point; what if it hadn’t worked? What if the autopilot had failed and she was lost in time forever? Was that worth it to try to get her daughters back? Would she have ended up lost in space, or would the team have eventually found her and brought her home?

“I had to try,” she whispered, and a fresh set of tears began trickling down her cheeks, streaking grime from the stress of the evening thus far down her face. “I had to, Wyatt, I had to try to get back to them. I can’t do this, I can’t be here like this. I thought that if I left on my own that I could find a way to get back to them, that I would come back to them being alive again.” Wyatt nodded solemnly, tucking Lucy back into his chest again, hushing her as she sobbed into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Luce,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “It must have been so hard to come back here.” Lucy nodded into his chest, her ear pressed against his heart. She breathed in sync with him, slowly calming herself down.

“I miss them,” she whimpered, sniffling as she pulled away to look at him. He sighed deeply, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Who was he?” he asked quietly, and Lucy froze in his arms. “Was it Noah?” Lucy shook her head, gazing up at him, contemplating. He frowned. “Who were you married to?”

Lucy took a deep breath, watching him carefully, leaning back in his arms.

“You,” she whispered, blinking owlishly, a tear sliding down her cheek again. “I was married to you, Wyatt.”

“What are you two doing?”

Both Lucy and Wyatt turned to find Agent Christopher with three Homeland Security agents, all frowning at the two time-travelers. Wyatt jumped in front of Lucy, holding his hands up.

“Lucy had a weak moment, but everyone’s fine and the time machine is still here,” he assured them as Agent Christopher read the screens.

“Where were you trying to go, Lucy?” Agent Christopher asked, and Lucy looked to Wyatt for an answer, as she so often did. He blew air through his cheeks, his eyes widening.

“To get her sister back,” he blurted, then turned to her, shrugging as if to say _well, it’s true_. “But, she told Rufus before she left and he told me I had to get down here before she did something potentially dangerous.” Lucy frowned softly at that, knowing that Wyatt wasn’t making that part up. Rufus had known where she was going.

Luckily, Agent Christopher wasn’t as attuned to Wyatt’s tells and bought the entire thing, gazing sympathetically at Lucy.

“I know I promised you we’d get your sister back once Flynn was caught,” she began, sighing. “But, then Emma took the Mothership and we threw you right back into it. I’m sorry to say this, Lucy, but until the time machines are out of commission for good, it’s just not safe to attempt to get your sister back.” Lucy nodded, her expression blank. She knew all this, of course. It wasn’t the first time she’d been told. “What if you got her back, but then lost her again on your next trip?”

Lucy hadn’t thought of that, and Wyatt gently reached behind him, offering his hand as he heard her breath catch in her throat at the thought. She gratefully grasped his hand in hers, curling her fingers around his and clutching them like a lifeline.

“If it’s all the same to you, ma'am, I’d prefer to take Lucy home, now,” he murmured, squeezing Lucy’s hand. Lucy nodded behind Wyatt, silently begging Agent Christopher to just let them go.

“Very well,” she acquiesced, nodding for the other agents to stand down, and Wyatt’s grip on her hand loosened up now that there was no real threat of danger toward him or Lucy. “We’ll talk more about this later. Lucy,” she called out, frowning softly at the historian. “Get some sleep.”

If only.

Lucy answered with an involuntary yawn, and Wyatt chuckled, moving his arm around her waist and leading her towards the door. She was only vaguely aware of the burst of fresh air washing over her as they exited Mason Industries, emerging into the cool night air.

“Where are we going?” she mumbled, her eyes beginning to droop from the emotional and physical exhaustion of the past few days; hell, the past week, if she was being truly honest with herself. Wyatt gently shushed her, helping her into his car and reaching over to buckle her seatbelt. She sighed happily as her eyes slipped shut, enveloped by his warmth and the comforting smell of Wyatt.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard Wyatt chuckle, then felt the firm pressure of something soft on her cheek. “Get some sleep, Luce,” he whispered, and that was all the invitation she needed.

* * *

After not having slept comfortably in a little over a week, the combination of having told Wyatt everything and being able to be in the presence of Wyatt again without panicking was overwhelmingly reassuring, and Lucy had never slept better in her entire life.

She woke pressed firmly against his chest, tucked under his arm as he snored softly. Her eyes opened slowly, a yawn escaping as she dragged her eyelids open, blinking slowly in the still darkness.

She was in her room back at Wyatt’s apartment.

Home, he’d said. He’d brought her home.

Lucy smiled softly, snuggling back down into Wyatt’s arms, silently thrilled that at least she’d regained this aspect of the alternate timeline for the time being. She pillowed her head on his chest, breathing in time with his heartbeat as it thumped underneath her cheek, reminding her that he was alive.

Emma hadn’t touched him.

That thought was sobering, and she stiffened suddenly, worried that Wyatt could still be in danger. Wasn’t that why she’d been pushing him away? She bit her lip, sniffling as she wrapped her arm tighter around his middle.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered in the stillness, and she jumped slightly, eliciting a soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest. “You okay?”

“I thought you were asleep,” Lucy whispered, wary of disrupting the peaceful bubble they seemed to be trapped in. She felt him shake his head, his arm around her tightening. His other hand came up to grip hers, bringing it up to his lips.

“You know I can’t sleep when you’re thinking so loud,” he murmured against her fingers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She sighed softly, her heart aching. “Come on, Luce, what’s on your mind?”

“You never asked me how I got back,” she muttered, shifting in his arms, slowly sliding up his body so they were level with each other. Wyatt shrugged, and Lucy giggled softly as his shoulder gently nudged her head up into the air.

“I just figured I got hurt in that timeline, too,” he confessed, frowning softly at her. Lucy shook her head slowly, biting her lip.

“Emma found out,” she breathed, swallowing the lump in her throat that formed whenever she thought about walking away from her family like that. “She found out that you and I were married, that I’d been living in an alternate timeline, and she threatened to,” Lucy paused, taking a deep breath, “to kill you.” Her voice broke and Wyatt pulled her close, kissing her forehead as she tried to push past her emotions and continue. “She says that I’m supposed to be with Noah, that it’s been destined by Rittenhouse since before either of us were born.” She gently nudged his shoulder. “ _You_ , and my feelings for you, get in the way of that.”

“Emma’s not touching me,” he promised her, his lips still pressed to her skin. “Or you, for that matter. Or Rufus. None of the time team is getting offed by the ginger,” he teased gently, and Lucy giggled in spite of herself. “Hey,” he whispered, his fingers tilting her chin up to meet her eyes. “Lucy, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll fight to the end. I promise you that.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his blue eyes still locked onto her brown ones. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I’d never want to get rid of you, Wyatt,” Lucy whispered, all notions of teasing having flown out of the open window that was currently letting in a soft breeze. She moved her hand from resting on his chest to brush her fingertips gently across his cheekbone, her touch feather-light as she smiled softly through fresh tears. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice fraught with emotion. “I love you so much, and it’s going to kill you one day.” Wyatt shook his head, her head moving with his as he pulled her hand from his cheek. “No, Wyatt, it _is_ , it is, and I am so sorry. I tried to stop it by leaving, but I can’t stop it, no matter how hard I try. It’s inevitable.”

“Lucy,” he interrupted her, squeezing her hand, his voice strong in the otherwise quiet night. “Emma will never succeed, okay? You’re not marrying Noah, I’m _not_ going to let that happen.” Lucy breathed in sharply at the strength behind his promise. “I mean it, Luce, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, leaning in closer, gently nudging their noses together.

Lucy shut her eyes, leaning into the touch, a shiver running through her body as she remembered kissing Wyatt in an alternate timeline and wondered what it’d be like to kiss him for real.

The ringing of both of their phones startled them out of their embrace, and Wyatt quickly reached behind him to grab his. Lucy squirmed in his arms, still wrapped firmly around her, searching for hers as he spoke a few words to Agent Christopher then hung up.

“Emma took the Mothership out again?” Lucy asked, and Wyatt nodded, frowning as he helped her sit up, still tucked closely to his side. He was staring down at the bedsheets, his face blank. “Wyatt,” she muttered, beginning to worry. “What’s wrong?”

“She took the Mothership to November 22, 1963,” he breathed, his eyes flitting up to meet hers as her breath caught in her throat. “Even _I_ know that one.”

The assassination of John F. Kennedy.

* * *

Wyatt’s hand hadn’t left Lucy’s since they’d climbed into the Lifeboat, then subsequently climbed out of it, searching for Emma in the crowded streets of Dallas.

He gently pulled her along after him and Rufus, his hand wrapped firmly around hers, a silent reminder that he was close by and wasn’t going anywhere. She squeezed his hand as they peeked around the corner from behind a building, trying to get the jump on Emma who was standing mere feet away, speaking quietly to someone.

“Wait,” Lucy breathed all of a sudden, recognizing the young man that Emma was currently talking to. “That’s Jack Ruby,” she whispered, frowning. He wasn’t supposed to be here today. He wasn’t meant to kill Oswald until a couple days from now, when Oswald was being moved by the authorities. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“Think Emma brought him?” Rufus asked quietly, peeking over her shoulder. Lucy shook her head, watching Jack and Emma carefully.

“What if she’s trying to stop Oswald?” Wyatt suggested, turning to glance at Lucy over his shoulder. “We should get to the building.” Lucy frowned as Wyatt began pulling her away, his hand still wrapped around hers, Rufus following after them.

“Wait,” she called out as they got closer to the building where Oswald would set up his gun and shoot JFK. He paused, glancing back at her. “You’re not going to try to stop him? You’re just going to let Oswald shoot JFK?” Wyatt stopped then, turning around to sigh at her, his eyes boring into hers.

“Miss Preston!”

Lucy and Wyatt both turned to find President Kennedy making their way toward them, beaming. Lucy froze, her eyes wide, glancing at Rufus who’d stiffened as well.

She hadn’t met JFK in this timeline. He shouldn’t have remembered her.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he gushed, taking Lucy’s other hand in his, shaking it. Lucy stuttered a soft laugh, nodding. “How are your girls?”

Lucy’s stomach jumped.

“What? What did you just say?” she demanded, taking a step closer to him. “You remember them?” She turned back toward Rufus, her eyes wide, squeezing Wyatt’s hand. “How is that possible?”

Rufus shook his head, frowning as he moved closer. “Maybe since it’s the only timeline he remembers, or because it’s the one that he exists in?” He shook his head again, regarding Kennedy with a strange look. “Or Rittenhouse preserved his memories somehow.”

“Wait,” Wyatt spoke up, and Lucy turned to him. “Does he mean _our_ daughters?” Her heart swelled as she nodded.

“Oh no,” Kennedy mumbled, and Lucy turned back to find him frowning at her. “Did something happen to your girls? Was it _them_?” Lucy shook her head, smiling brightly at Kennedy, squeezing Wyatt’s hand in hers to urge him to simply play along.

“No, the girls are fine!” Lucy beamed up at him. “Layla will be starting Kindergarten in the Fall, and Amelia’s top of her class. Thank you for asking,” she continued as Kennedy grinned at her. She could see Rufus’ sympathetic look out of the corner of her eye. “How are you doing, Mr. President?” He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your small friend is here,” he whispered, leaning in towards Lucy, and Wyatt frowned as he moved closer. “She’s speaking with that man.” Lucy nodded, ignoring Wyatt’s confused look.

“Thank you,” she replied quietly as Kennedy nodded and stood up straight again.

“Well, I must be getting back,” he muttered, nodding toward Wyatt. “Nice to see you again.” Wyatt’s eyes widened and Lucy quickly squeezed his hand.

“Uh, right,” he stuttered, nodding. “Yeah, you too.” Kennedy smiled and slipped back into the crowd. Lucy bit her lip, wondering again if he knew what was about to happen. She’d always wondered why he’d refused his bodyguards just days before he was assassinated. She took a deep breath, turning to face Wyatt.

“I’m sure you have questions,” she began, and Wyatt nodded, his eyes wide. “In the alternate timeline, we met Kennedy quite a few times. He helped us all out of some sticky situations,” she murmured, keeping her voice low. Rufus nodded, gesturing to Lucy.

“He helped us save Lucy that one time she was kidnapped by Emma’s goon,” he remembered. Wyatt straightened at that.

“ _What_?”

“Thanks, Rufus,” Lucy muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. “Kennedy’s entire family is Rittenhouse, but he’s been trying to take them down for years. He’s one of the good guys, Wyatt,” she assured him. Lucy turned back towards Emma, frowning. “Which is why I’m not sure why Rittenhouse would want him killed. They still think he’s completely on their side,” she whispered, biting her lip.

Emma nodded discretely to Jack and they parted ways. “Look,” Wyatt murmured, pointing as Emma walked back towards the building Oswald was currently supposedly holed up in. “Let’s go,” he urged, tugging Lucy after him, Rufus by his side.

They followed Emma further down the street, to the entrance of the telltale building, and Lucy planted her feet, recognizing there was no way out beside the way they’d come in.

“Wyatt, no,” she called out, tugging him back. “It’s a trap.”

The door slammed shut behind them and Rufus scrambled to open it again.

It was locked.

“You’re just too smart for me, Princess,” Emma drawled, and the team turned to find her smirking at them. Wyatt quickly drew his gun, but Emma held her hands up. “I’m here to save history, okay? Kennedy was never meant to die today.” Lucy frowned, moving in front of Wyatt.

“What do you mean? You’re trying to _save_ him?” she asked incredulously. Emma nodded, sighing deeply.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to save him for _months_ , now. Why do you think I’ve been trying to find Jack Ruby?” Emma asked incredulously, her eyes focused solely on Lucy. Lucy frowned, tilting her head; when had Emma been looking for Jack Ruby? Emma sighed, exasperated. “The mission with your other soldier, in Dallas? Why did you think I was there?”

“Teddy?” Wyatt spoke up from behind her, and Emma peered around Lucy to nod patronizingly at him.

“Yes, I apparently dropped a wall on you so you were down for the count,” she smirked. “Glad to see you’re up and moving. I thought I’d heard you were cleared to go out again.” Wyatt scoffed and Emma turned back to Lucy, who was still figuring it out.

“You were looking for Jack when we were with Teddy,” Lucy whispered, frowning. “But, why? What does Jack have to do with Kennedy’s assassination? Oswald kills Kennedy,” she murmured, looking down, getting lost in her train of thought. “And Jack kills Oswald,” she continued, frowning up at Emma. “Are you trying to kill Oswald before he can kill Kennedy?”

“Ding, ding! We have a winner!” Emma called out, beaming with pride. “You know, I never really believed what they said about you until I started taking those trips with Flynn and saw it firsthand. You really _are_ brilliant.” Lucy stiffened under her scrutiny, but Emma quickly continued with her tangent.

Wyatt’s hand curled around her arm, gently, assuring her that he was there and he’d get them out of this. It was incredibly comforting, given the circumstances.

“Why were you talking to Oswald in Fort Worth, then? He said you told him to stop what he was planning,” Lucy remembered. Emma nodded, smirking at Lucy.

“Oswald isn’t Rittenhouse, but he wants to be. He’s been trying to get on our good side for _years_ , even going as far as becoming a Russian spy so that he could be of some use to us. But, he’s too eager. We don’t like recruiting insane people that are all too eager to join,” she explained. Rufus barked a laugh at that, drawing her attention away from Lucy.

“Right, wouldn’t want insane people in your secret organization hell-bent on rewriting history,” he muttered, and Emma frowned at him. “Emma, what happened to you? You used to be _good_.” She shook her head.

“I was never good, Rufus,” she whispered, sighing. “I was born into this, just like Kennedy, just like Lucy,” she gestured to Lucy who flinched under her acknowledgment. “It’s my destiny, and I can’t run from it.” She turned back to face Lucy, green eyes boring into brown. “ _None_ of us can.”

“You’re wrong,” Lucy whispered, her voice breaking. Wyatt’s grip on her arm tightened, and she drew her strength from him. “Destiny isn’t real,” she continued, her voice stronger. “I have a choice, _you_ have a choice. Emma, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to keep working for _them_. You can fight them with us.” Lucy took a step forward, and Wyatt’s hand slipped from her arm as she stood in front of Emma. “I remember the alternate timeline,” she whispered. Emma straightened at that. “Everything that Kennedy had planned, everything he was going to accomplish. We can still win, Emma. We can make sure his plans come to fruition. All you have to do is climb back into the Mothership, go back to the present, and work _with_ us instead of against us,” Lucy pleaded. Emma paused, tilting her head at Lucy.

“Kennedy has something planned?”

Before Lucy could respond, the door burst open again, and Jack Ruby came barrelling in. Emma battled herself internally for a split second before nodding towards the stairs.

“He’s up there,” she informed him, and Ruby took off like a shot, pounding up the stairs two at a time, his gun drawn. Lucy whirled on Wyatt, her eyes wide, but he was already following after Jack. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” Emma muttered as she nodded at her guy that had been guarding the door and they left.

“No,” Lucy whispered, turning to call after Emma. “Wait!”

But, Emma kept walking, and when there were two gunshots from upstairs, followed by two more and a large thud accompanied by a familiar groan, Lucy felt her heart stop.

_Wyatt_.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on track with a real plan! This story probably has about two or three chapters left now. Unless these guys decide to take matters into their own hands again.

He wasn’t moving. 

Lucy crouched down, her face already wet with tears as she gently brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Wyatt’s face. Oswald was dead, and Ruby had already escaped past them, probably following after Emma and her goon. 

None of that mattered. 

There was so much blood, and Wyatt’s entire side was stained crimson. Lucy felt her stomach turn, her head spinning as she struggled to focus on Wyatt and the telltale slight rise and fall of his chest as she pressed her palm over his heart, willing it to keep beating. His eyes flickered and she caught a glimpse of that bright blue that had been haunting her for over a week, now. The eyes he’d shared with her girls. He wasn’t focusing on anything, his gaze darting all around, and she watched helplessly, unable to move or speak to gain his attention. 

“Lucy,” Rufus’ gentle but firm voice pulled Lucy out of her daze. Her eyes snapped up to meet his as he laid a hand on her shoulder, offering her a small smile. “Hey, he’s going to be fine, but we have to move him. Okay?” Lucy nodded, but her movement was stiff. Broken. 

Just like him. 

Rufus didn’t wait for her to move; he simply hauled Wyatt up by one arm, nodding for Lucy to grab his other side so Wyatt wasn’t in too much pain. Lucy dove to catch his other arm, swinging it over her shoulder and helping Rufus bear Wyatt’s weight. 

“Keep pressure,” Wyatt mumbled, his head hanging. Lucy quickly tucked herself against his side, her other hand holding his waist as she pressed herself close to him, hugging their bodies together where the bullet had penetrated him. 

Together, she and Rufus hobbled back to the Lifeboat, ignoring the questioning looks from the people in the crowds, and pointedly ignoring the commotion surrounding a very famous President and his distraught wife. 

* * *

 

Lucy had only buckled herself in a handful of times. Once they’d been tasked with chasing after Emma in lieu of Flynn, Wyatt had taken it upon himself to buckle her in. The movement was fluid, almost automatic; they’d all climb into the Lifeboat and get situated in their seats, and the first thing he did was buckle her in. And, every single time, she felt just a bit safer than before, knowing he had secured her in place and was only a foot away if something went wrong. 

It was the same feeling when she’d first started staying at his apartment, after she’d essentially run away from home. That first night, she’d slept on the couch, curled into his pillows like a child clutching a stuffed animal. They’d been watching a movie because Lucy couldn’t focus on anything else, and she’d been fast asleep by the halfway point.

They’d only been chasing Emma for a few months at this point, not counting the time she’d spent in the alternate timeline, and she’d already grown so accustomed to having him near. She felt so much safer and protected if she knew he was nearby. 

Now, she helped him into his seat and fastened his seatbelt with shaking hands, trying not to look at his face, twisted up in pain. Lucy sat back in her seat and watched him try to lean forward. 

“Wyatt, no,” she admonished, her trembling voice betraying her as she quickly buckled herself in. He leaned back with a heavy sigh, followed by a soft groan, and she reached out, placing her hand over his knee. “Rufus,” she called, worried by the way Wyatt’s eyes had suddenly drifted shut and his head had begun to droop to his chest. “Get us home.” 

The shaking and rattling of the Lifeboat around her seemed even worse than usual without his soft, reassuring smile or teasing smirk. His unresponsiveness coupled with the fact that _she_ had buckled herself in, and not Wyatt, did absolutely nothing to assuage her fears, and she clutched his knee, her fingers digging into his thigh, as she fought back the wave of terror that had stopped bothering her a long time ago. 

As soon as the Lifeboat was back in 2017, Lucy wasted absolutely no time, bolting from her seat and out the door as soon as Rufus had opened it. 

“Wyatt needs a doctor, _now_!”

Both Agent Christopher and Mason stood at attention immediately, rushing to the Lifeboat, calling out names of people she used to remember. Nothing else mattered, though. 

Lucy felt an odd sense of deja vu as they pulled Wyatt out of the Lifeboat and loaded him onto a stretcher, wheeling him off to the infirmary. She found herself standing outside of the double doors once again before she could even tell she’d started following the doctors. 

Rufus stopped beside her, and she could hear his heavy breathing beside her as she stood, staring at the stark white doors, praying with all she had that he would be alright. 

“He was talking for some of the trip,” Rufus tried to assure her as they both slid down the wall, watching the doors carefully. “I don’t think it was nearly as bad as it seemed. Wyatt’s a fighter.” 

Lucy nodded, only half listening to him. Her mind was swimming with alternate scenarios that could very well happen: Wyatt not surviving, Wyatt being too injured to travel again, Wyatt somehow having amnesia and not remembering anything at all. 

That last one was a bit far-fetched, she admitted. 

She decided that if he was decommissioned yet again, she would be as well. She wasn’t risking losing him again, not after she’d finally confessed everything. She was selfish, and she knew other people needed Wyatt to live for multiple reasons, but _she_ needed him to live simply because she _needed_ him. 

Six months ago, she wouldn’t have thought she’d ever need someone as much as she needed him, needed him by her side, needed him teasing her or rolling his eyes when she went on historical tangents or pouring her a glass of wine the second they got home after a rough mission. She needed him sitting next to her on the couch, his arm thrown over her shoulders, trying yet again to explain the world of _Star Wars_ to her. 

“Ma’am,” a voice stirred her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see the same doctor from earlier, smiling softly down at her. She studiously resisted the urge to admonish him for referring to her as such. “Master Sergeant Logan is absolutely fine. He just needs a day of rest and to take it easy, but he should be cleared to return to work as early as tomorrow.” Lucy nodded, smiling softly, a huge weight lifting off of her chest. 

“Can I see him?” she asked, surprised to hear how small her voice sounded. Before she could think too much on that, the doctor had nodded, and she was already on her feet and pushing her way through the doors and down the hall, completely on auto-pilot up until the moment she stopped in front of his door. 

Wyatt was sitting up in bed, his chest wrapped in a white bandage, bruises and cuts marring his body, but looked healthy otherwise. 

He was _alive_. 

Lucy pushed through the door, not even waiting for him to notice her before she climbed up into the hospital-style bed with him. 

“Hey,” he whispered, startled as she tucked herself against his side, leaning her head in the crook of his neck. He tilted his head so that it rested on hers. “I’m okay, Luce, see?” He pulled away to look her in the eyes, smirking. “It’s just a flesh wound.” 

“You’re not funny,” Lucy mumbled into his shoulder, trying to hide her giggle. He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “I almost lost you,” she whispered, the severity of the situation crashing down on her as she realized how close she’d come to losing him twice in just a matter of weeks. Three times, if she counted Alternate Wyatt, whom she _had_ lost. 

“You didn’t, though,” he reminded her, his voice soft. “I told you, Lucy, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” She shook her head, scoffing. 

“I don’t think of it as being stuck,” she murmured, lifting her head to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.” Wyatt frowned, tilting his head at her. 

“What makes you think it was because of you?” he asked, leaning closer. “I got hurt because Jack Ruby shot me. I don’t see what that has to do with you.” Wyatt smiled softly. “I know you’re important and everything, Luce,  but I don’t think this is about you, this time,” he teased her. She rolled her eyes, laughing softly. He maneuvered his arm out from underneath her to wrap around her body, pulling her closer to his side. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, thoughts racing through Lucy’s mind, reminding her that she’d almost lost him. And, as much as he tried to play it off, it _was_ her fault. Everything was her fault. If Emma had succeeded… she shuddered at the thought, and Wyatt tightened his arm around her. 

“Alright, what are you thinking about?” he whispered, trying not to startle her too much. She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “Is it about what Emma said?” he guessed, and she snapped her eyes up to meet his. 

How is it that he knew her so well?

“What if she’s right?” Lucy worried aloud, her eyes locked on Wyatt’s. “What if my future is inevitable? What if there really is no chance of me escaping it?” Wyatt frowned, and she took a deep breath. “In the other timeline, she told me that Rittenhouse had big plans for not only me, but my children. She was adamant that I change it back to the original timeline, or she’d kill you. I knew if she’d found out about you, it was only a matter of time before she found out about the girls, so I ran back to,” she paused, not sure what to call Alternate Wyatt now. 

“Other me?” Wyatt offered, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Lucy smiled, nodding. “Did Emma ever tell you what those plans were?” Lucy shook her head. 

“No, just that I needed to be with Noah, not you,” she murmured. Wyatt nodded thoughtfully and she could see the gears turning, see him mapping out every single possibility, every scenario that could occur. 

She lay there, wrapped around him, watching him think. Tentatively, she lay her palm over his chest, feeling for his heartbeat to anchor her. He gently laid his hand over hers, holding it against his chest. 

“We were married?” he whispered, so soft she almost missed it. Lucy looked up at him to find him gazing at her, and the look in his eyes made her heart ache; it was the exact same way he’d looked at her in another timeline. She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. He floundered for words, and she waited patiently as he worked through what he wanted to say. “Was I a good father?” he eventually choked out, his eyes dropping. 

“Of course,” Lucy answered immediately, frowning. How could he think he wasn’t? “Wyatt, you loved them so much. You were an _amazing_ father.” He nodded, still not looking at her, his brow furrowed. 

“Amelia and Layla,” he whispered, trying the names out. Lucy’s breath caught in her throat as she heard her daughters’ names on his lips. “How old were they?”

“Amelia was seven and Layla was five,” Lucy replied breathlessly. Wyatt’s eyes did meet hers then, wide and confused. “We were married for eight years.” 

“How did _that_ happen?” he asked, frowning deeper. 

“We met at Stanford. I don’t know why you were there, but you were in my mother’s history class. You were drunkenly calling me ‘ma’am’,” Lucy grumbled, and he smirked. “When I told you to stop, we started talking and I started tutoring you.” Wyatt burst out laughing, making Lucy jump a little in his arms. 

“You were my _tutor_?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. “Are you sure this wasn’t some dream world of yours? This sounds way too cliche to be anyone’s real life,” he teased her. She gently poked him in the side that wasn’t hurt, smirking. 

“I said the same thing, actually,” she confessed. “About how cliche it all was, anyway. The only dreams I ever had while I was there were of you, though.” 

Everything was still for a moment as Lucy realized what she’d just said. Wyatt tilted his head in wonder at her, his brow furrowed again, and she chanced a glance up at him. 

“You dreamt of me?” he whispered, and she nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“As much as I loved him and the girls,” she began, looking up at him. “I missed _you_.” Wyatt nodded, processing, and the arm wrapped around her tightened just a bit as his fingers interlocked with hers pressed against his chest. He sighed, looking at her. 

“I’m not him, Lucy, and I wish I could be,” he breathed. “But, I’ve got years of baggage, and I’m completely messed up. I can’t be the guy you want me to be.” Lucy shook her head, moving her hand from his chest to rest on his cheek. He closed his eyes at the touch. 

“You already are,” she murmured. He opened his eyes, and she saw it: that love she’d seen every single day for two months whenever she looked into her husband’s eyes. It was staring back at her right now. 

Exhaustion overpowered her and she let out a soft yawn, snuggling further into Wyatt’s arms. He chuckled, kissing the top of her head as he held her close. 

“Get some sleep, Luce,” he whispered into her hair. She nodded blearily against his chest.

“You, too,” she ordered as her eyes slipped shut, lulled to sleep by the steady drum of his heart beating against her cheek. 

He was alive. He was safe. 

He wasn’t going anywhere. 

* * *

 

Wyatt was the first one to wake the next morning, turning slightly to watch Lucy sleep. Her eyelids fluttered and he wondered what she was dreaming about, if she was still being plagued with memories of a life she’d never really lived. 

A life she’d never lived with _him_ , her husband for eight years, and their two daughters. The more he thought about it, though, the more it made sense. He’d told Lucy as much when she’d been sent off without him the first time: he was always meant to find her. So, of course, in an alternate timeline where he hadn’t met Jessica, he’d fallen in love with Lucy first. Of course they’d gotten that head start and settled down straight out of college, starting a family together. Of course they’d both been chosen to time-travel, maybe even more so there since they were married; married teams usually worked very well together, depending on the strength of the marriage. His and Lucy’s marriage would have been one of the strongest, he figured. 

Wyatt hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was open to possibilities all those months ago, hadn’t been dangling false hope in front of Lucy. It had been Lucy, ultimately, that had decided it wouldn’t happen between them just yet; after everything that happened with her mother, she threw herself into their work, focusing on saving history. 

The team grew stronger during those months, and Lucy had essentially moved in with him, but nothing romantic had happened apart from him growing bolder after each mission became more and more dangerous. He’d lost count of how many times he’d almost lost her at this point. He’d pulled her out of a casket in the early 1900s and immediately pressed his lips to her hair, just thankful she was alright. She was too terrified to react, he knew, from the stress of not only being nearly buried alive, but in a confined space to boot. That hadn’t helped her claustrophobia, and that was the first night they’d spent in his room, with her curled against his side, still in shock, shaking with fear, and he’d held her tight. 

There was always the possibility that he could return home one day and his wife could be waiting for him, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what that might mean for him and Lucy. He looked down at her again, her face so peaceful in sleep. 

He loved her. That much, he knew. 

Secretly, he hoped that if he ever did return to a timeline where Jess had survived, they’d be completely different people. Looking back now, all he felt was guilt for losing her, but not love. They’d fought more often than not, and even then he’d known that wasn’t how it should have been. 

He should have let her go when he had the chance. Maybe he could have saved her. 

Lucy began to stir, and he quickly adjusted his grip, smiling softly as he watched her yawn, her eyes fluttering open to look up at him. He sighed, completely content with waking up to this. 

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, nodding at her hair as he always did in the mornings. She rolled her eyes, pressing her face back into his chest, mumbling something under her breath that sounded like ‘every timeline’. 

Lucy eventually sat up, after a few minutes of waking up slowly, and tucked her hair behind her ears as she cuddled close to Wyatt. She rested her head on his shoulder, entwining her fingers with his. 

“How’s your side?” she asked, gesturing to the bandage that had slipped a little lower in the night. He shrugged, glancing at it. 

“Forgot it was there, to be honest,” he admitted sheepishly. “Did the doctors say when we could go back on missions again?” Lucy nodded, biting her lip. 

“Well, he said that as long as you got rest, you could probably go as early as today,” she replied quietly. “But, I really think you should take it easy for another day.” Wyatt shook his head, but she held a hand up. “Hear me out. You’ve only just gotten better from your first injury, and now there’s this one. You’re weak, and you and I both know you’ll already be looking over your shoulder worrying about what Emma’s doing and you’re not in your best shape to be protecting us.” She nodded firmly, signaling she was done, and Wyatt tilted his head at her. 

“What are you and Rufus going to do without me, though?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. Lucy shook her head, turning into his arms again, her head falling into the crook of his neck as she buried herself deeper in his hold. 

“I’m not going,” she mumbled into his neck, and he resisted the urge to shiver as her breath washed over his skin. “I’m not leaving you again.” He turned to kiss her forehead, leaving his lips pressed against her skin for a moment, putting all the comfort he could offer into that one kiss. 

“Lucy, I know you’re afraid,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of her head as she pulled herself closer to him. “But, you can’t let Rufus go on his own. You need to help him keep a low profile wherever Emma ends up going. And, I know you’re worried about me, but I’m not letting you go anywhere without me, either.” He tilted her chin up, pulling away to look at her. “We go together, no matter what.” Lucy nodded, her gaze trained on him carefully. “You might have to help me a bit, though,” he muttered and she smiled softly. 

“Of course, Wyatt,” she promised, tucking her head back into his neck, sighing against him as she tightened her arms around his middle. He held her tight, rubbing her arm up and down as they just lay there in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. 

* * *

 

Lucy hadn’t realized she’d fallen back asleep until the scent of cinnamon rolls woke her hours later. She stirred in Wyatt’s arms, her eyes opening immediately as he thanked whoever had just delivered them, pulling the tray table over them and placing two cinnamon rolls on a plate. 

“Morning,” he chuckled, watching her sit up immediately, her eyes bright at the sight in front of her. “I told them to just bring this from now on, especially if you’re here.” Lucy rested her head on his shoulder for a minute and he kissed her forehead. 

“You take such good care of me,” she mumbled and he laughed as she grabbed a cinnamon roll off the plate and took a huge bite. 

The icing was still warm and gooey and the dough was still soft and hot; it was like eating sugared air instead of an actual cinnamon bun. Lucy was completely lost in the food and didn’t realize she was making some obscene noises as she ate until she’d finished it and turned to Wyatt. 

His eyes were dark as he watched her, but his gaze was filled with wonder, and she could tell he had a burning question on the tip of his tongue. She blushed, knowing immediately what it was, and quickly pondered whether she should answer it. 

“There’s something I want to know,” Wyatt started, his voice slightly husky, and Lucy clutched the bed sheet to keep herself grounded. She could lose control if he kept talking like that, looking at her like that. “But, I think it might be crossing a line to even ask.” Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat, watching him carefully. 

“Go ahead,” she whispered, urging him on. He sat up a little straighter, leaning closer to her, and her hand was fisted in the sheets now, stopping herself from all but launching herself at him. He was so close she could see the lashes on his eyes as he blinked at her. He gulped. 

“In this alternate timeline,” he began, and his voice was still low and growly and Lucy didn’t know how much longer she could stay away from him. “Did we ever…?” he trailed off, gesturing between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. Lucy nodded, biting her lip and his gaze followed the movement. 

Something changed then, his eyes still dark, his voice still husky, but with another layer. His body had shifted, turning closer to hers so they were nearly pressed together, every inch of them touching. His other hand rested on her waist, his thumb slipping underneath her top to brush absently against the smooth skin of her hip. He frowned slightly at her, his gaze darting from her lips to her eyes, and she knew there was one more question he wanted to ask. 

“Go ahead,” she prompted, her voice soft, a stark contrast to how keyed up she was just from him staring at her and his hand against her skin. She would surely lose control any minute now, so she knew he’d better ask his question soon. 

“You said you loved me,” he reminded her breathlessly, and she nodded, her eyes softening as she watched him compose his question. “What’s it like being in love with two completely different versions of the same person?” She smiled, tilting her head further into the pillow of his shoulder, twisting her mouth up in fake concentration, causing a chuckle to bubble out of him. 

“You aren’t completely different,” she admitted, frowning softly. “And, I think that’s _why_ I fell in love with him so easily, why I was so ready to just accept that timeline as my new life. He was so much like you that it would hurt otherwise to think of you. So, I tried to think of him _as_ you.” She shook her head, looking up at him. “As much as I loved him, though, he _wasn’t_ you, and I didn’t realize just how much I missed you until you were in front of me again.” Wyatt nodded, taking it all in. Lucy shifted then, moving her hands up to cradle his face, keeping her eyes trained on his. “Wyatt, I loved him because he was so much like you, but I love you _more_.” 

And, that’s how Rufus found them minutes later when he’d knocked on the door, slowly creeping in. They immediately separated, but Wyatt kept Lucy tucked close to his side as he turned to Rufus, already knowing what happened. 

Emma had taken the Mothership out again. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Hey, there. I'm so sorry I kind of dropped off the face of the earth; work kind of took over my life for a while, there. I planned on releasing this chapter this week anyway, but then I heard, "In My Life" at my cousin's graduation, and felt like the universe was telling me to release just a couple days early. So, it hasn't been betaed, any mistakes you find are my own, and I apologize. 
> 
> I believe this is the longest chapter so far...? So, hopefully, that makes up for the long wait!

****Lucy had lost track of how long she’d spent laying in Wyatt’s arms, curled tight against him in the tiny hospital-style bed. Wyatt had drifted back to sleep, snoring softly with his head propped up against hers. She smiled, debating grabbing her phone to record evidence for the next time he insisted he didn’t snore.

A few stray strands of hair had fallen across his forehead during the night, and Lucy was pondering whether she should brush them away and risk waking up Wyatt, a _very_ light sleeper, when a soft knock on the door drew her attention elsewhere. Agent Christopher stood in the doorway looking apologetic and Lucy stiffened. 

“Where did she go?” Lucy asked, and the sound must have startled Wyatt because his snoring ceased and he began to stir underneath Lucy, his arm automatically tightening around her. 

“Seattle, 1964,” Agent Christopher sighed. “Wyatt, are you okay? Or, should I call Master Sergeant Tedder?”

“No,” both Lucy and Wyatt snapped, Wyatt sitting up immediately. Agent Christopher straightened, startled by their outburst. Wyatt relaxed, sitting up against the pillows. 

“No, I mean, I’m fine,” Wyatt amended. “I’ll just bring Lucy down to the wardrobe dock and then get changed.” Agent Christopher nodded, though they could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced, and Wyatt hoped she wouldn’t demand a psych eval for his reaction. She left the room shortly after, and Lucy relaxed completely into Wyatt’s arms, sighing. 

“I guess we should get up,” she murmured, smirking at him, and he tilted his head as if he was thinking about it, wrapping his arms tighter around her. “Wyatt,” she whispered, giggling as she tried to squirm out of his hold. “We need to get going. I need to go figure out why Emma’s in Seattle in 1964, and you need to go find your gun.” He stiffened, frowning at her. 

“Where’s my gun?” he asked and she used his distraction to slide out of the bed, holding her hand out to help him up. 

“Let’s go find it,” she urged, wiggling her fingers in front of him. He smirked, taking her hand and sliding out of bed, following her out of the room and down the hall to the wardrobe dock.                       

* * *

  

Lucy frowned as she scrolled through her phone while Jiya finished her makeup. The only significant event that had happened on August 21, 1964 was The Beatles staying at Edgewater, and she highly doubted Emma was going to the 60’s just to see the popular British band. 

“Knock, knock,” Rufus called, and Lucy and Jiya both turned to smile at him. He shuffled over, kissing Jiya on the cheek before he sat down beside Lucy. “Any idea why Emma’s in ’64?” Lucy shook her head, earning a playful swat from Jiya. 

“Sorry,” she muttered as Jiya continued dusting her face with a layer of powder. “No, not unless she’s a closeted Beatles fan,” she continued to Rufus, taking care to keep her face very still as she handed him her phone. Rufus frowned down at the article. 

“Was there anyone else important there? Besides the greatest band of all time, that is,” Rufus asked, and Lucy and Jiya both paused, turning to grin at Rufus. “What? You’re saying you _aren’t_ Beatles fans?” 

“I just didn’t think _you_ would be one,” Lucy giggled as Jiya began brushing her hair, chuckling to herself as well. “But, no, I can’t think of anyone important that might have been in Seattle that same day,” Lucy admitted, and Rufus sighed, scrolling back through her phone as Jiya fixed a hat to Lucy’s head. “Emma probably changed something earlier on that put someone else there that day. Unfortunately, it’s one of those things we won’t know until we get there.” 

“Okay, Rufus,” Wyatt called out, walking in and taking the seat on the other side of Lucy. “It’s your turn.” Rufus nodded, getting up and kissing Jiya on the cheek one more time before leaving. 

“You’re all done, Lucy,” Jiya murmured with a soft smile as she packed up the makeup and hair tools to bring back to the people in charge of the wardrobe dock. She left the room, throwing a wink at Lucy as she closed the door behind her, leaving Lucy and Wyatt completely alone. 

Lucy smiled, turning to glance down at what Wyatt was wearing. “We match,” she teased, pointing at his plaid pants and her maroon skirt. He chuckled, ducking his head. 

“I’m not sure what it is with these wardrobe people and putting me in plaid,” he muttered, scooting closer to Lucy so she could fix the collar of his short-sleeved button-down. She smiled softly at him, patting his collar down, her hands resting on his shoulders. He smiled at her, reaching up to fix her hat. “So, did we figure out why she’s in Seattle?” 

“No, we were just talking about that. Apart from the Beatles staying at Edgewater, nothing too monumental was going on that day,” Lucy explained as she fixed the cuffs of her button-down pinstripe shirt, tucked into the waistband of her maroon skirt, and Wyatt played with the ends of her hair. His touch sent shivers down her spine as his fingertips danced across her shoulder, brushing her hair back. “We’ll have to go in blind,” she whispered as he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, chuckling. 

“When aren’t we going in blind, Luce?” he murmured, smirking at her. Lucy rolled her eyes and he laughed again, tugging her closer, kissing the top of her head as she wound her arms around his neck and snuggled closer to him. 

They sat there for a few moments, Wyatt playing with her hair, and Lucy committing the sound of his heartbeat to memory. She wished they could just stay there, even though Wyatt was clearly okay to travel. She wished they lived simpler lives where they could just be together without the added danger. 

“Last time you wore plaid, we were kidnapped,” Lucy mumbled against his neck, and Wyatt chuckled, rubbing her back. 

“I don’t think it had anything to do with the pattern,” he whispered, pulling away and tucking her hair behind her ear. She smiled up at him, completely unaware that Rufus had barged in and was watching them. 

Rufus cleared his throat, and they both turned to him, jumping apart. Rufus grinned, walking up to them as Wyatt helped Lucy stand. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Lucy playfully rolled her eyes as she brushed past him. “Is it happening?” he asked Wyatt instead, and Wyatt chuckled, shaking his head and following Lucy out the door. “Yeah, it’s happening,” he mumbled to himself as he closed the door behind him.                                                                                                 

* * *

  

Finding Edgewater wasn’t difficult in the slightest. As Lucy had instructed them once Wyatt had helped her out of the Lifeboat, they just had to “ _follow the sound of screaming teenagers_.” 

“You’re sure this is the biggest thing happening today?” Wyatt asked, and Lucy nodded, clinging to his arm as they began to maneuver their way through the mass of teenage girls. 

“Do you _see_ this crowd? Unfortunately, even if anything else _was_ going on today, it would have been overshadowed by-“

“The greatest band of all time,” Rufus interrupted as he grabbed Lucy’s other arm. She chuckled, turning to nod at Rufus. 

They made their way through the crowd to the front of the hotel, explaining to the guard at the door that they had a reservation. He waved them through and the trio emerged into a quiet, nearly empty lobby. Lucy took a deep breath as Rufus and Wyatt let go of her to smooth down their rumpled clothes. 

“You know,” Lucy began as they walked toward the desk. “I was named after ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’.” Wyatt and Rufus both turned to her, eyebrows raised. “My dad was a big fan. ’Lucy’ was a prominent name in history and the title of his favorite song. Both my parents won.” 

“Isn’t that the song about LSD?” Wyatt teased, ringing the service bell. Rufus rolled his eyes. 

“No, that wasn’t ever intended,” he grumbled, seemingly very offended. Wyatt raised his arms in surrender as the concierge came to the desk, smiling. 

“Hi, we have a reservation under Logan,” Wyatt greeted her, sliding a crisp bill over the counter. “I called earlier,” he reminded her, and she grinned wider as she pocketed the cash. 

“Yes, of course, Mr. and Mrs. Logan,” she replied, smiling at both Wyatt and Lucy. Rufus chuckled as Lucy blushed, inching closer to Wyatt to sell the story. “I have your keys right here,” the concierge continued, handing them two single key rings with one key on each. Wyatt grabbed both keys with one hand, his other wrapped around Lucy’s. “Please enjoy your stay at Edgewater!” 

“Thank you,” Lucy murmured, smiling at the girl as Wyatt pulled her away from the desk and the three time-travelers made their way up the stairs to their room. 

“Why did we get a room in the hotel the Beatles are staying at?” Rufus whispered to Lucy as they reached their room. “As much as I’d love to bump into them, we’re supposed to be looking for Emma.” Lucy shrugged, gesturing to Wyatt. 

“Ask Mr. Logan,” she replied, tilting her head at Wyatt when he looked back at her. “He apparently made a reservation somewhere between the Lifeboat and here,” she quipped as Wyatt opened the door and ushered them inside. 

“No, no, _Mrs_. Logan,” he teased, grinning at the blush that swept across Lucy’s cheeks, “I simply made it worth her while to let us in on the most popular night in the history of the hotel.” He winked at her as she sat down on the bed. “Mason warned me ahead of time to bring lots of extra cash, just in case we needed to buy our way in.” 

“Well, we’re in,” Rufus murmured, plopping down beside Lucy. She chuckled and nudged his shoulder. “What’s the plan, team?”

The sound of something splashing into the water interrupted their thoughts, and fearing the worst, they all raced over to the window and stuck their heads out. 

The hotel was right on the water, and someone had taken advantage of that by casting their fishing line right from their hotel window to go fishing. 

“Must have been whoever’s in that room,” Lucy whispered as Wyatt relaxed beside her, looking over at the people a few rooms down from them, fishing from their window. He gasped and grabbed Lucy’s arm before she could duck her head back in. 

“Lucy, don’t move. Where’s Rufus?” Wyatt spoke quickly, his eyes wide and trained on the people fishing. Lucy frowned, turning around and waving Rufus over. “Rufus, breathe. Come take my place.” 

Rufus replaced Wyatt at the window, frowning, and Lucy shrugged as he threw a confused look at her. 

“Okay, now both of you turn and look at them, very slowly,” Wyatt instructed, and Lucy and Rufus exchanged a look before doing so. 

“Oh, my god,” Rufus breathed, clutching Lucy’s shoulder as her eyes widened. 

About four rooms down from them, Paul McCartney was leaning out of his window, his fishing line thrown into the water. 

“They’re here,” Lucy breathed, watching him reel his line back in, muttering something about the fish not biting. There was boisterous laughter from others in the room, and then there was silence as the window was shut. 

“Oh, my god,” Rufus repeated, helping Lucy duck back inside their room. “Oh, my god.” Wyatt grinned as Rufus collapsed onto the bed, his head in his hands. 

“Well, glad you didn’t go all fangirl, Rufus,” Wyatt teased as Lucy handed Rufus a glass of water, smiling softly at their friend. “You seem to be completely unfazed by they fact that you just saw one of the Beatles.” Lucy swatted at his arm, smirking. 

“Be nice,” she whispered, turning back to Rufus. “Are you okay? Do you need to lie down?” Rufus nodded, setting the water on the bedside table and curling up on the bed. 

“Oh, my god,” he continued whispering as Lucy tucked the sheet around him. “I just saw _young_ Paul McCartney.” Lucy giggled, nodding at him as he relaxed into the mattress. 

“Hey, why don’t you stay here, get your bearings,” Wyatt began, slipping an arm around Lucy’s waist. “The Mrs. and I are gonna scope out the place, see if we can find out if Emma’s here.” Lucy rolled her eyes as he grinned at her, but followed him out of the room. 

“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” Lucy murmured as Wyatt led her down the stairs and into the lobby. He shrugged, squeezing her waist. 

“It’s not such a foreign concept to me anymore,” he whispered, and Lucy stilled as he rang the service bell at the desk again. The concierge came out, all smiles again. 

“How may I help you, Mr. Logan?” she asked, grinning at Wyatt. Wyatt chuckled, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. 

“We’re looking for a friend of ours, and it’s kind of a surprise, but we wanted to make sure she made it to the hotel okay, what with,” he paused to gesture to the crowd of fans still gathered outside of the hotel. She nodded, understanding as she turned to the guest log. 

“What’s the name?” she asked, flipping back to the beginning of the week. 

“She would’ve checked in maybe a couple days ago,” he continued, peering over the guestbook with her. “Might be using a fake name, but her real name is Emma Whitmore,” he whispered, and Lucy cautiously glanced around, looking for any sign of Emma’s thugs. 

The young girl twisted her mouth up as she scanned the book. Finally, her finger rested on one line, showing an entry for someone that had been checked in yesterday. 

“Oh, yes, I remember her! Red hair, freckles, big smile?” she asked, grinning at both Lucy and Wyatt. Lucy smiled back, nodding. 

“Yes, that’s our Emma!” Lucy chuckled, glancing at Wyatt as he tugged her closer. “Do you know what room she’s in? We were hoping to surprise her with some cupcakes.” The concierge ate the lie up, gushing about how _sweet_ they were for surprising their friend with treats. She quickly wrote down the room number, adding that Emma had also booked a small conference room for a meeting if they wanted to decorate it with balloons and such, and slid the piece of paper over to Lucy with a wink. 

“Not bad, ma’am,” Wyatt whispered as they headed back up the stairs to check out Emma’s room. Lucy chuckled, letting him lead her down the hall. “Okay, stay behind me just in case she is in there,” he muttered, pulling out his gun and sweeping Lucy back behind him as he crouched outside her door. 

Wyatt pressed his ear to the door, listening, then quickly began picking the lock. He glanced up at Lucy as his hand rested on the doorknob, waiting. She stifled a scream as he suddenly burst into the room, his gun drawn, aiming for anyone that might jump out at him. 

Lucy waited a few minutes before Wyatt poked his head out of the door and waved her in. She followed, glancing around the room for clues as to why Emma would be here. 

Nearly every surface in the hotel room, save for the one double bed, was covered in stacks and stacks of paper and books about 1960’s American history.

“Don’t know how much time we have, professor, so do your thing,” Wyatt murmured as he began rifling through a stack of papers on the bedside table. Lucy nodded, heading for a stack on the table by the door, covered with scraps of paper and small sticky notes that were not from 1964; Emma must have done all her research at home. 

Printouts about Nixon’s presidency littered the table, including torn-out pages from various Encyclopedias. Was Emma trying to impeach Nixon before the Watergate scandal? 

“Rittenhouse didn’t like Nixon,” Lucy remembered aloud as she frowned down at her stack of papers. Wyatt perked up at that, crossing the room to help her sort through her stack. 

“You think she’s trying to get rid of Nixon?” he asked as Lucy flipped through a small packet of papers that had been paper clipped together. 

“Maybe not get rid of,” she muttered as she stopped on a page, detailing Barry Goldwater’s current run for the presidency. “I think she might want someone else to win instead,” she whispered, scanning the page she’d found. “Barry Goldwater is currently running for President, against Lyndon B. Johnson,” Lucy explained as she held out the page she’d found. Wyatt took it from her, reading as she continued. “Goldwater isn’t going to win, there’s no way for Emma to influence this now; it’s all up to the people. He wasn’t even close. She’d have to be here closer to November to fix anything. Goldwater runs _again_ in 1968, but Reagan and Nixon are the two leading Republicans; again, he doesn’t stand a chance.” Wyatt nodded, returning to his stack. 

“Well, who’s Roy Cohn?” he asked, pointing at a name circled at the top of the page. “Seems like that’s who she’s here to see. She’s meeting with him today in that conference room.” Lucy frowned down at the page, thinking. 

“Roy Cohn was an advisor; he advised Nixon when he was going after the presidency,” Lucy muttered, shaking her head as she began to put the pieces together. “What if she’s trying to get him to advise Goldwater instead? Maybe, that’s why Emma’s here; she’s going to convince Cohn to advise Goldwater instead, help _him_ win the Presidency in 1968.” Lucy’s eyes widened as she began to panic. “Wyatt, that could change America entirely. Who _knows_ what kind of President Goldwater would be, _especially_ if Rittenhouse has him in the palm of their hand the entire time?” Wyatt placed his hands on Lucy’s cheeks, gently shushing her, trying in vain to get her to calm down. 

“Breathe, Luce,” Wyatt whispered, taking a deep breath with her. They both froze as someone began clapping behind them. 

“You really _are_ brilliant, Ms. Preston,” Emma murmured, and Wyatt quickly pulled Lucy into him as he drew his gun and aimed it at Emma. She threw her arms up, smirking at him. “I come in peace,” she teased, inching her way closer to the pair. “I left the door unlocked, you know. I _wanted_ you to see what I was doing, Lucy.” Wyatt’s arms tightened as Emma drew closer. “I want us to work together. Your future is inevitable, Lucy, and I wish you’d hurry up and realize that so we could begin our work.” 

“Don’t touch her,” Wyatt growled as Emma reached a hand out to rest on Lucy’s shoulder. She froze, then drew her hand back, smiling at Wyatt. Lucy turned in his arms to frown at Emma. 

“What are you going to do?” Lucy asked in a small voice, and Emma tilted her head at her. “What _else_ are you going to do if I don’t join you?” Emma nodded, thinking. 

“Well, I suppose just keep threatening your team,” she murmured, kicking at nothing in particular on the carpet. “Maybe your family, dangle the promise of getting your sister back,” Emma paused, looking up at Wyatt with an evil smirk. “Although, threatening your dear soldier here worked _wonders_ last time.” Wyatt felt Lucy stiffen in his arms at that and he adjusted his hold on her to brush his thumb soothingly against her arm, trying to calm her down as Emma’s thugs began to file in, closing the door behind them. 

“Don’t touch him,” Lucy spat, her voice filled with such malice that it shocked Wyatt while also filling him with a sense of pride; Lucy was nearly a soldier in her own right after everything she’d been through. Emma laughed. 

“Lucy, darling, it’s simply _adorable_ how you think you have a choice,” she teased, and this time she did lay a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, as her men had all their weapons trained on Wyatt. “But, you and I both know that there’s no escaping this. Your grandfather couldn’t, your father couldn’t, your mother couldn’t, and neither can you.” Emma pulled on Lucy’s arm and she was detached from Wyatt as another man pulled him away, plucking his gun from his hand. “You know I’m right about this, Lucy,” Emma whispered, and Wyatt watched helplessly as Lucy didn’t respond, locking eyes with Emma. 

She was right. There _was_ no escaping it, was there? 

Emma had already threatened Wyatt once, and Lucy had given up her _daughters_ to keep him safe. If Emma threatened Wyatt again, there was no question: she’d join in a heartbeat. And, judging by the grin Emma was now wearing as Lucy stared straight ahead, she knew it, too. 

“It’s in your blood, Lucy,” she whispered, and Lucy stood up straight, nodding. 

“You’re right,” she replied, meeting Emma’s surprised eyes. Wyatt struggled against the three men it took to hold him back. 

“Lucy!” he shouted, but she turned, shaking her head at him. He went slack in their hold as Lucy turned back to Emma, standing up straight. 

“You’re right,” Lucy repeated, stronger this time, and Emma smiled, patting Lucy’s shoulder. “Where do we begin?” 

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear you’re on our side, now,” Emma gushed, pulling Lucy out of the room. “I’ve already done everything that needed to be done here, but once we get back to 2017, we can start work on our next step,” Emma’s voice trailed off as she led Lucy down the hall. Wyatt stiffened at that; she was taking Lucy back to the Mothership, and he’d surely never see her again.  

“So, what happens to me?” he ground out, glaring at the men that were still holding him back. “You gonna follow your little leader? Or is she leaving you guys here in the 60’s?” The men all glanced at each other, and the distraction was just what Wyatt needed to break free of them, grabbing his gun from one and firing silenced shots into their chests in quick succession. 

He didn’t pause to clean up the bodies, or check that they were really dead; he didn’t even stop to grab Rufus from their hotel room. He bolted out of the room and down the hall, after Emma and Lucy.

* * *

                                                                                 

Emma had exited the hotel through a secret backdoor and was well on her way to the Mothership, chatting Lucy’s ear off the entire time about all their plans for her, and how much _good_ she would do now that she’d finally accepted her destiny. 

Lucy wanted to vomit. 

She was only doing this to protect Wyatt, she reminded herself, and she wasn’t really going to work with Rittenhouse. She figured she’d learned enough in her travels and chats with Rufus to become a double agent. It seemed simple enough: do work with Emma and meet up with Wyatt and Rufus and whoever their new historian was in the past and help them take out Rittenhouse by giving them whatever information she gathered. Lucy smiled convincingly at Emma as she wondered why she hadn’t thought of this before, and not for the first time, she wondered if she’d thought of it in the other timeline if things might have been different. If she’d thought of this plan then, would she have been able to keep her girls?

The Mothership was just as large as she remembered, and while the Lifeboat looked like an eyeball, the Mothership greatly resembled one even more so, and Lucy felt the machine watching her every move as Emma began to help her up. 

Suddenly, bullets ricocheted off of the machine, and Emma quickly pushed Lucy down, forcing her to duck her head. 

“Lucy!” 

She turned, her heartbeat racing as she watched Wyatt peer out from behind a barrel in the warehouse Emma had hidden the Mothership in. 

“Wyatt!” _Force of habit_ , she chastised herself as she involuntarily called out his name in response. She was afraid, if she was being honest with herself, and she always looked for him when she was afraid. She quickly straightened and cleared her head, turning back to follow Emma.

“Dammit, Lucy!” Wyatt fired more shots at Emma, and Emma ducked again, pulling Lucy down with her. “You can’t do this,” he pleaded with her as Emma struggled to stand back up. Lucy turned to face him and was momentarily shocked to see the range of emotions on his face, including one that took her a full minute to put a name to.  

 _Wyatt_ was afraid. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him truly afraid. 

Worried, sure; that came without saying, especially when she was having panic attacks around the clock. She’d seen _him_ panic before, during one of his particularly bad flashbacks at the Alamo. Concerned was another emotion she knew all too well, as was anger. But, afraid? No, that was all new. 

“Lucy, come on,” he continued, his voice breaking, and Lucy turned further toward him of her own accord, wanting to comfort him, to bring the light back into his eyes, to take any semblance of pain away. Emma gripped her arm tighter, dragging her up into the Mothership. 

“I’m doing this for you, Wyatt,” she whispered as she turned back around to follow Emma into the Mothership. 

“Lucy Preston, don’t you _dare_ leave me!” More shots bounced off of the time machine, and some had left minor scarring around the outer shell. Emma’s grip loosened and Lucy felt someone else grab onto her arm and tug, pulling her out of Emma’s grip as the door to the Mothership slid shut. 

Both Emma and Lucy screamed as the Mothership started up, Lucy on one side, Emma on the other. Wyatt pulled Lucy closer, away from the time machine and she clawed at him, trying to get away. 

The Mothership disappeared into thin air, and Lucy went slack in his arms, tears streaming down her face. 

“Why did you _do_ that?” she cried out, wriggling out of his arms and turning around to glare at him, her face flushed with anger. “Wyatt, I had a plan. You couldn’t have actually thought I was going to _join_ them!” She scoffed, throwing her arms up in the air. “After everything they’ve done to me, to _us_?” He simply watched her, his face expressionless as she huffed, shaking her head at him. “You _know_ she’s right, Wyatt, that my future is inevitable.” Wyatt breathed deeply, his anger flaring as he took a step closer to her. 

“Lucy, she’s _not_ right. We’ve talked about this, dammit, you have a _choice_. You don’t need to join them, you don’t need to write that damn journal, and you _don’t_ need to accept everyone else’s idea of your future.” He paused, walking up closer to her, his hand lightly resting on her shoulder. “Lucy, what do _you_ want?”

 _You_ , she almost replied, and could feel the answer on the tip of her tongue as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, trying to quell her anger. He was watching her carefully, his eyes bright, his face flushed, and her heart raced at the thought of losing him. 

In lieu of a proper response, Lucy gently placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating underneath her fingertips, and he tightened his hand on her shoulder as he felt her hand shaking on his chest. 

“Luce,” he murmured, frowning softly down at her, and she stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear. That was what scared her the most: the thought of losing him. She would do anything to make sure Wyatt survived, even run away with Emma if she had to. No one was taking Wyatt away from her. 

“I want you,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I want you safe,” she continued, punctuating her words with a firm pat on his chest, her fingertips curling into the collar of his shirt. He nodded solemnly, his thumb brushing back and forth across her shoulder. 

“You’ve got me,” he promised her, his hand moving to cup the back of her neck, tilting her head up. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Lucy smiled through her tears, locking eyes with Wyatt as he slowly leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. 

It was an incredibly ironic realization given their careers, but in that moment, Lucy could’ve sworn that time stood still. 

Her heart beat erratically in her chest as his gaze flicked down to her lips, and she held her breath as he leaned in closer, his lips lightly brushing hers in a chaste kiss. Her eyes fell shut as she responded in kind, her hands moving further up his neck to grab at his collar and tug him closer. He groaned into the kiss, his hands moving from her shoulders to her waist, gripping her tightly. 

It was _better_ than Lucy remembered. 

This was _her_ Wyatt, the one she’d met only months ago, that had smirked at her in a waiting room and called her “ma’am” and irritated her to no end. The same one that had thwarted her plan to get on Emma’s good side in order to keep him safe. The Wyatt that had lost a wife and gained a family in the two co-workers he was forced to be around all the time, the one that had spouted off promises of possibilities. 

Their kisses escalated, and Lucy found herself suddenly backed into a wall, the cement digging into her back, Wyatt’s hands tight on her waist. He busied himself with pulling the hem of her blouse out from the waistband of her skirt, his thumbs skimming across the skin of her stomach. She moaned at the feel of his skin on hers, even in such a small amount, and retaliated by combing her fingers through his hair, pulling lightly on the short strands. 

“Fuck, Lucy,” Wyatt groaned against her lips, and she smirked as his mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck, sucking lightly on the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Lucy whimpered, her fingers reaching down to unzip the fly of his plaid pants. She slid her hand inside the waistband of his boxers, and he pulled away from her to rest his head against her shoulder, groaning into her skin. 

“Wait, wait,” he barked suddenly, and she froze as he pulled away slightly to rest his forehead against hers. “Are you sure? Tell me to stop right now and I will,” he promised her and she pressed her forehead against his, staring into his eyes with a soft smile. 

“You’re not _doing_ anything,” she taunted in a low voice, and before Wyatt could retort, she sealed her mouth to his, swiftly tugging his pants down in one fluid motion. He moaned against her, deciding all at once to give her what she wanted. 

Wyatt reached down, his hands hooking underneath her thighs under her skirt, lifting her up into his arms, her back pressed against the wall. Lucy locked her ankles at his waist and whimpered as he pulled away to slide her panties partway down her legs. Wyatt silenced her with a gentle kiss, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip, a stark contrast to the bruising kisses she’d received only moments before. Lucy sighed, her arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer as he nudged the tip of his length against her. She moaned, pulling away to throw her head back, and he continued kissing the column of her throat, sucking small barely noticeable marks into the taut skin of her neck. 

“Wyatt, please,” she whimpered as he thrust against her again, but not nearly close enough to where she really wanted him. He didn’t keep her waiting long and he silenced the deep moan she emitted as he entered her with a thorough kiss. 

They held no regard for the owner of the warehouse Emma had hidden the Mothership in, didn’t care if anyone walked in or found them. All they knew was each other, and Lucy became lost in the familiar, but still new, sensation of Wyatt moving inside her, his mouth pressing gentle kisses into any patch of skin he could reach as she moaned wantonly.  

And so, in a warehouse in the middle of Seattle in 1964, approximately 52 years before they’d even meet, Lucy fell in love with Wyatt all over again, and though he still hadn’t said the words, she knew he loved her, too. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you that have read "hold my hand", I am so sorry. I'm also sorry I dropped off the face of the earth yet again. I promise I'm not abandoning this story! Hopefully this makes up for all of the time you had to wait/all the heartbreak I dished out with that prompt? :) Mind the rating; this chapter is definitely M.

****The cement was cold against Lucy’s back as she caught her breath, still clutching Wyatt’s shoulders like a lifeline, fearing she’d fall to the ground without him supporting her. She whimpered quietly at the loss of him as he hastily pulled his pants back up, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist at all times, holding her up. Her entire body felt like jelly, and when Wyatt gently tugged her forward to carry her away from the wall, she went willingly, practically sagging against his chest, her head tucked into the crook of his neck.

_That_ had been better than Lucy remembered. 

She stifled a smile as she turned her head further into his neck, leaving soft kisses as she moved. It had been real, this time. This was really _her_ Wyatt, the one she’d originally fallen for. He kissed her hair as he climbed on top of the wooden crates and gently set her down on the platform the Mothership had sat on just a while ago. She lay back on the platform, unable to hold herself up, as he quickly and carefully moved her panties back into place, taking care to smooth her skirt down. His fingers paused at the hem of her blouse, and she gently swatted his hands away, meeting his eyes as she smiled softly up at him. 

“I’ll tuck it back in later,” she whispered, afraid to break whatever spell they were both under if she spoke too loudly. He nodded, slowly crawling up her body, hovering carefully over her as he gently touched his lips to hers. Lucy immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. She smirked as he groaned into her mouth, his hand gripping her waist as he struggled to keep his weight off of her by propping himself up on his other arm. 

Lucy kissed him one last time, her fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair, tugging lightly as she pulled away, biting her lip. Her heart raced as she recognized the look in Wyatt’s eyes as he stared down at her, his gaze bouncing from her eyes to her mouth. 

Rufus had insisted that Wyatt, _their_ Wyatt, had loved her all along. She finally believed it. 

 Lucy patted the spot next to her, and he chuckled, rolling off of her to lay down beside her, pulling her back against his chest. 

“You okay?” he asked, his lips pressed to her cheek as he held her close. Lucy nodded, tightening her hold on him. 

“I just want to lay here for a minute,” Lucy breathed, turning in his arms to smile softly up at him. “Just pretend all of the complicated parts of our lives don’t exist,” Lucy answered truthfully, and Wyatt nodded against her, nuzzling her neck. 

They couldn’t stay there all day, though - they still needed to get back to Rufus and get home - so they only lay in silence for a few moments before Lucy untangled herself from Wyatt’s arms and stood up, reaching a hand out to help him up, and they made their way back to the hotel.                                                              

* * *

 

Understandably, Rufus was pacing the length of the hotel room when they returned, Wyatt still clutching Lucy’s hand in his. He spun around as Wyatt closed the door behind them and immediately wrapped Lucy in a hug. 

“Thank goodness,” he breathed, pulling away to hold her at arm’s length, his wide-eyed gaze bouncing between her and Wyatt. “What happened? Where the hell have you two been?” he asked, the pitch of his voice climbing as he continued to grip Lucy’s biceps in his hands, reminding himself that both she and Wyatt were okay.

They weren’t stranded in time. Emma hadn’t killed or kidnapped either of them. His team was safe. 

His eyes flicked down to reassure himself that there was no bodily harm or any blatant injuries, and his gaze lingered before bouncing back up to meet theirs, a sly grin spreading across his lips.

They were holding hands. 

“So, what happened?” Rufus repeated, relinquishing his hold on Lucy to nudge Wyatt as Lucy gently pushed past him, trying to hide her inflamed cheeks. She busied herself with gathering their things and packing up the research they’d had enough sense to go back and grab from Emma’s hotel room. Wyatt rolled his eyes and began helping her. “Something totally happened.” 

Lucy had grabbed the most important looking stacks while Wyatt had gotten rid of the bodies, opting to toss them out of the window and into the water below. Lucy hadn’t approved, but there wasn’t much she could do. Sooner or later, she knew the trail of bodies they always left would come back to haunt them, and that they could potentially become wanted criminals due to the countless murders they’d committed. 

“Emma’s gone,” Wyatt replied instead, shouldering one of the bags Lucy had packed full of research. “This is her research. We’re going to head home and try to decipher it, see if we can get a couple steps ahead of her.” Rufus nodded, recognizing that Wyatt was in all-business mode. 

He didn’t miss, however, the guiding hand Wyatt kept at the small of Lucy’s back, or how once Wyatt had safely buckled the historian into her seat in the Lifeboat, his fingers never left her knee. 

He made a mental note to tell Jiya once they returned to the present. 

* * *

 

Agent Christopher seemed frustrated at the fact that she had more questions than answers. The trio sat in the conference room along with Connor Mason and Jiya, explaining what had happened in Seattle, within reason. 

Wyatt didn’t explain Lucy’s weak moment and how she’d almost run away with Emma. He also didn’t tell anyone about what had happened in the warehouse, though he figured Rufus suspected something. He couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering on her lithe form as she sat in the conference room, her fingers drumming lightly on the table as she frowned, trying to piece together anything from the research they’d stolen from Emma. 

“So, she just left this in the hotel room? In 1964?” Agent Christopher repeated, frowning down at the loose papers strewn across the table, having spilled from Lucy’s bag. The three nodded and Agent Christopher bit her lip as she sifted through the pages. 

“Perhaps she meant for you to find it, Lucy?” Connor suggested, frowning down at a couple of the pages as well. Lucy locked eyes with Wyatt for a moment, but looked away just as quickly, shrugging at Connor. 

“Maybe,” Lucy conceded, her gaze flitting back down to the papers in front of her. 

“Well, this is good work. Whether she meant for you to find it or not, maybe we can get ahead of her for a change.” Agent Christopher slid all of the pages into a neat pile as the others began to stand. “Get dressed and head home. Your work here is done for the night, and you three look like you could use some rest.” 

Wyatt was the first one out the door, making a bee-line for the wardrobe dock. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he mumbled as he quickly grabbed his things from his locker and ducked into a changing room.                                                                            

* * *

 

Lucy pulled her t-shirt back on and began tying her hair up in a ponytail in lieu of combing through the tangles. She could always shower back home. She paused as she ran her fingers through her hair, combing it up to wrap the hair tie around it. 

Where exactly _was_ home, now?

“Knock, knock,” Wyatt called out, poking his head through the door of her changing room. Lucy tilted her head, smiling up at him as he pushed his way further into the small space, his hands fitting to her hips as he pulled her close. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she teased, and Wyatt smirked before leaning in and swiftly capturing her lips in his. She sighed, her hands crawling up to run her fingernails gently through his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slipped to the small of her back as his arms wound tighter around her, one hand snaking up her back, his other thumb slipping under her shirt to smooth across the soft skin of her waist. 

“I believe it’s time to go home,” he murmured against her lips with one final kiss. Lucy chuckled as he offered her his hand, leading her out of the changing room. 

“And where might that be?” she asked, feigning ignorance as Wyatt slipped an arm around her shoulders, pointedly ignoring the blatant stares from their various co-workers from Mason Industries that watched them as they both made their way toward the parking lot. 

“You know where your home is, Luce,” he replied softly, his eyes meeting hers as he pushed through the door. Lucy nodded at the serious tone in his voice, his eyes softening as he continued to lead her to his car. 

She nodded, following him blindly, her eyes locked on his retreating form. 

Of course she knew where her home was. She was looking at it. 

* * *

 

The car ride home was relatively silent, but charged with an electricity that Lucy could almost taste on the tip of her tongue. Wyatt’s hand migrated smoothly from the gear shift of his car to her knee, his fingers resting on the inside of her thigh. 

“You know, we need to talk,” she blurted as he pulled into his parking space in front of the apartment she’d called home for months after she’d run away from her mother. He sighed, his hand squeezing her thigh as he turned in his seat with a cocky smirk. 

“Really? You want to talk?” he murmured, and her heart rate accelerated as the hand wrapped around her thigh slowly dragged higher. She whimpered as he moved across the console, his other hand reaching up to brush against her cheekbone. “If you want to talk Lucy, we can go upstairs right now and talk all night. I’m serious,” he whispered, his eyes catching hers, and she could see the sincerity in his gaze. 

“We can always talk later,” Lucy replied, her breathing hitching as he pulled her closer and nuzzled his nose against her jaw, his lips ghosting over the skin of her neck. He placed soft, barely-there kisses down the column of her throat, and she gripped his arms, her fingernails digging into the fabric of his jacket. All too soon, he pulled away, catching her hand in his and pushing her toward her side of the car. 

“Not here, Luce,” was all he said as he quickly got out of the car then headed to his apartment door after checking that Lucy was following closely behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, her hands slipping underneath the front of his untucked button-down shirt in a futile attempt to ward off the chill of the night. 

Wyatt groaned lowly as he fumbled with the keys, her hands slowly creeping higher, scratching lightly against his abs. Finally, the door flew open and he wasted no time, pulling her into the pitch black apartment, closing the door behind them. 

Lucy’s back was up against the door in an instant, Wyatt’s mouth hot on hers. His hands were locked on her hips, his thumbs teasing the hem of her top as she’d been doing to him only moments ago. His hands curled under her thighs and she hopped up, locking her ankles around his waist as she rolled her hips up into his. 

Wyatt groaned, pulling her away from the door, his hands shucking her top up to spread over the bare skin of her stomach and back. She shivered at the touch, sighing as she recognized he was carrying her to his bedroom. 

They tumbled onto the mattress, a tangle of limbs and clothes being torn off, their hands desperately seeking each other’s body, a frightening level of need evident in every touch. Lucy moaned as Wyatt settled between her thighs, his lips finding hers instantly as her hand gently curled around his shaft, expertly pumping and stroking him as he groaned into her mouth, his rough hand cradling her cheek. 

Lucy wanted him, _needed_ him, but she was afraid to speak, afraid to voice her desires. She was worried she’d break whatever spell they were both under. Wyatt must have sensed it, or maybe she’d accidentally whispered something in the midst of a moan, because he dragged his mouth down to her neck, his knee scooting up to nudge hers apart, and she could feel the weight of him settling. Their eyes met as he shifted closer. 

The room was dark, a sliver of the light of the moon the only thing illuminating their naked bodies as they gravitated toward each other, Lucy’s hand fitting to his cheek as he kissed her, Wyatt slowly sliding into her without much preamble. 

There was no rush. No small children that might come into the room, no life or death situations, no threat of Emma running out. Or, maybe there was. But, they didn’t care. Wyatt took his time, careful to learn everything that made her sigh, what made her grip his shoulders, her fingernails clawing into his skin as she writhed underneath him. In turn, Lucy learned how different he was from the other Wyatt. She learned where to touch him, where to kiss him, when to lean closer and moan in his ear, what to say to spur him on. 

When he finally pushed her over the edge, he followed, swallowing every noise she made as he kissed her. They lay in his bed afterward, watching the moon shine through the windows, and stayed up trading lazy kisses as the sun rose over their bodies. 

* * *

 

Emma was either giving them a break or had found a way to turn off the tracking mechanism attached to the Mothership. Whatever the case might have been, Lucy was not complaining at all. Except for the fact that two sweet voices didn’t call her “mom” anymore, it was almost as if she was back in the alternate timeline. 

She woke every morning tangled in a combination of sheets and Wyatt’s arms, always looped around her waist, holding her close to him as he snored softly. Sometimes he would wake up before her and she’d open her eyes to see him smiling sleepily at her, his hair all messed up from their activities the night before. 

It was a good life, a simple one. Lucy almost forgot all about their jobs. 

Almost. 

Lucy and Wyatt were laying in bed one morning, almost a week after they had followed Emma to 1964, when Wyatt’s cell phone erupted with Agent Christopher’s assigned ringtone. Lucy stayed firmly planted at Wyatt’s side, mumbling into his neck to make it go away. He huffed a laugh, grabbing his ringing phone from his nightstand as Lucy curled further around him, kissing the pulse point in his neck as he answered the phone. 

“Yes, ma’am?” he grumbled into the mouthpiece. Lucy continued laving her tongue over his neck as he spoke, listening as Agent Christopher began to apologize for calling so early. “Not a problem, ma’am. Where did she go?” His arm tightened around Lucy’s waist as she moved down his neck, peppering his chest with kisses. Agent Christopher answered him, but Lucy was paying more attention to Wyatt and how his breathing had hitched slightly as she slunk down his body, her hands trailing after her. 

She smirked as he disguised a groan with a cough, feeding some lie about being under the weather to Agent Christopher as she took him in her mouth. He fisted his hand in the sheets, his entire body stiffening as she swallowed him down, moaning softly. 

“She’s actually still sleeping,” Wyatt grumbled out when Agent Christopher mentioned calling Lucy next, and she stifled a giggle at the obvious arousal in his voice. “I’ll wake her up and we’ll be there, soon.” He quickly hung up the phone without waiting to hear Agent Christopher’s response, letting out a guttural moan as his body relaxed into the mattress, his hand moving to cup the back of her head as she pumped her mouth up and down around him. 

She pulled off with a soft _pop_ , smiling up at him. “Who was that, sweetheart?” she asked, feigning innocence as his eyes darkened. He gripped her arms and pulled her back up his body, settling her on his thighs as she leaned down to kiss him. 

“No one important,” he grumbled against her lips, sliding up into her in one fluid movement. Lucy moaned, throwing her head back as she began to rock her hips into his, his hands gripping her waist as she rode him. 

Wyatt canted his hips up, flipping her over into the mattress as he drove into her. She clutched at him, their mouths fused together, silencing Lucy’s soft keening as she met him thrust for thrust. She detached her mouth from his to lean in close, moaning his name in his ear as she came. He followed soon after, kissing her hard as he tumbled over the edge. He pulled away, his lips dancing over her nose and cheeks as he carefully rolled them onto their sides, still inside her, wrapped around each other as they caught their breath. 

“So,” Lucy breathed, her cheeks flushed as she smiled up at him. “Where did she go?” Wyatt chuckled as he slowly pulled out of her, kissing her as he did so to alleviate the slight ache. 

“Los Angeles, 1975,” he murmured before turning over and sliding out of bed. She propped herself up on her arms, her eyes darkening as she watched appreciatively as he scrambled around his - _their_ \- room for his clothes. 

Lucy watched him get dressed, slowly. First, the sweatpants. Then, he shrugged on a plain t-shirt, running a hand through his hair, messing it up, and Lucy’s fingers itched to be the ones to do that from now on. She bit her lip as he paced back and forth, stretching his arms, his shirt riding up slightly. Lucy must have whimpered at the small exposure of skin because he turned to her with a smirk before picking her dress up off the floor and dangling it in front of her with one finger. 

“Come on, babe,” he teased her, swinging the garment back and forth over her as she continued to lay in bed. “The sooner we stop Emma, the sooner we can get back here.” That seemed fair, so Lucy pushed herself up out of bed, snatching the dress from him and quickly slipping it on. He chuckled, tossing her a clean pair of panties from the drawer and she pulled those on as well. 

“LA, 1975,” Lucy mumbled as she quickly pulled her hair up into a messy bun, pulling a cardigan on over her dress as Wyatt pulled on his boots and she slipped into her shoes. “I’m not sure what could have happened. What month and day did she go to?” Wyatt shrugged as he opened the door for her, flicking the hall light off as he closed the apartment door behind them, locking it. 

“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” he mumbled, slinging an arm over Lucy’s shoulder as they walked to his car.

* * *

 

Emma ducked around cars parked on the side of the road, trailing after a young man with unkempt facial hair. She tilted her head as she watched from afar as he entered his apartment building in Los Angeles. She glanced at her reflection in the side-view mirror of a parked car, fluffing her hair before pasting on a sickly sweet expression and making her way to the front door. 

The door swung open, and the man frowned at her, tilting his head to the side. 

“Hello,” Emma greeted him, her grin spread wide, her eyes twinkling in the sunshine. Her red hair fell in soft waves around her face, giving her a more youthful appearance, and the man returned her smile as she nodded shyly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I moved in upstairs and forgot my key. Don’t suppose you’ve got the spare?” she asked, and he smiled, nodding. 

“I do, actually. One moment,” he replied, ducking back into his apartment to retrieve the extra key. Emma palmed the key in her pocket, making certain to tuck it deep into the folds of her sweater as the man came back to the door, passing her a key identical to the one in her pocket. “There you go, miss,” he paused, prompting her for her name. 

Collins,” she supplied easily. “Lynn Collins.” The man grinned, and his eyes brightened, just as she’d hoped they would. “And you are?” she asked politely, twisting the key around her fingers. 

“John,” he replied. “John Hinckley, Jr.” Emma grinned, shaking his hand firmly in hers. 

“Pleasure to meet you, John,” she murmured, staring into his eyes, waiting for that glazed-over gaze she received from so many suitors. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other,” she tried, but he only continued smiling simply at her.  Confused, Emma turned on her heel and left the stoop, making her way up the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building.   

On the other side of the street, three people stepped out from behind a car, all frowning in confusion as Emma slipped into the apartment upstairs. 

“She just needed to get a key from some guy?” Wyatt asked, turning to Lucy. “And why was she dressed so funny?” Lucy shook her head, biting her lip as she concentrated. 

“She’s trying to pass for someone younger,” she reasoned, tapping her foot as she struggled to connect the pieces. Emma wanted her to know what was going on, that much was certain. She truly believed she and Lucy would work together someday, so this was something Lucy should be able to figure out. 

But, she was stumped.

“Maybe we should go knock on the door, too?” Rufus suggested. “We didn’t get a good look at his face. He might be important.” Wyatt nodded, gently guiding Lucy closer to his side as the team crossed the street to the apartment building. 

“Do you want to do the talking?” Wyatt asked Lucy over his shoulder, his fist raised to knock on the door. She nodded and he rapped his knuckles against the door. 

“Yes, hello?” the man from earlier opened the door, peering out. Lucy gasped, her eyes widening as she clutched Wyatt’s shoulder from behind, her nails digging into his sleeve. He bit down the yelp of surprise that had threatened to emerge as he quickly assessed the man in front of him. He had a pale complexion with sunken cheeks and beady eyes. His facial hair was unkempt, and there was a kind of sickly kindness about him that immediately set Wyatt on edge. The man’s eyes swept over the three, his eyes locking on Lucy. 

“Hey,” Rufus called out, smiling as he shuffled closer to the group, his hands stuffed nervously in his pockets. “I’m Rufus, this is Wyatt, and Lucy. We’re rooming with Emma,” he supplied, gesturing casually to the second floor. “She told us to come pick up the spare key here.” The man tore his eyes from Lucy and Wyatt edged in front of her, watching the man carefully as he frowned at Rufus. 

“Who is Emma?” he asked suspiciously, folding his arms across his chest. Rufus chuckled nervously, glancing to Wyatt for help. 

“The woman who was just here,” Lucy piped up, peeking over Wyatt’s shoulder. Again, the man’s eyes swept over her, lingering as she continued, “you gave her a key to the place upstairs.” He nodded, smiling softly at her. 

“Yes, that was Lynn,” he replied, glancing at the two gentleman. “Lynn Collins.” 

“And you are?” Wyatt asked, his tone clipped as he regarded the man with an icy stare. 

“John,” the man replied, challenging Wyatt. “John Hinckley, Jr.” 

Lucy’s breathing hitched as her suspicions were confirmed. She stayed silent, tugging gently on Wyatt’s sleeve to urge them away. 

“Well, we must have the wrong address,” Rufus blurted, turning to follow as Wyatt slipped his arm around Lucy’s waist and led her away. “Thanks anyway, John.” John nodded, frowning at the two men before his eyes swept to Lucy as she ducked next to Wyatt, rushing with her team across the street. 

John stood in the doorway and watched her go, her hair bouncing as she rushed with the two men. Taking a deep breath, he realized with a smile that he could still smell her perfume in the air. 

“Lucy,” he breathed, leaning up against the door as she disappeared from his sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good news? I actually had to cut this chapter down so I have about 2k words of 15 already written!  
> bad news? I'm helping build and run Halloween stores (yes, it's that time of year again) so I'm not sure when 15 will see the light of the internet...  
> better news? I'm co-running the Timeless Big Bang! Come check out the blog if you get a chance :) timelessbigbang.tumblr.com


	15. Chapter 15

****Wyatt kept his hand on Lucy’s waist the entire way back to the Lifeboat, partially guiding her and partially dragging her along as she struggled to keep up with him.

As soon as they were safe in front of the time machine, Wyatt turned to Rufus, his eyes narrowed. “Why the _hell_ would you say her name?” he hissed, gesturing to Lucy. “Didn’t you notice how disturbing he was, how worried he made her? You could’ve just put Lucy in danger!” Lucy laid a hand on Wyatt’s arm as Rufus floundered for a response. 

“No, Wyatt, it’s okay, he panicked,” Lucy urged, smiling at Rufus’ insistent nod. “It’s okay, Rufus, really. I’m sure Emma would have told him who I was eventually.” Wyatt relaxed as Lucy’s hand slid down his arm to squeeze his, gently tugging him back towards the Lifeboat. 

“Who was he, anyway?” Rufus asked, following his teammates up into the time machine. Lucy sighed heavily as she settled in her chair, tucking her knees up so Rufus could sidle past her to the dashboard. 

“John Hinckley, Jr.,” she began as Wyatt leaned forward to buckle her in, “is the man who attempted to assassinate President Ronald Reagan.” 

Both Wyatt and Rufus froze, turning to Lucy. She nodded grimly as Wyatt searched her eyes, his hands now resting on her newly buckled seatbelt, his fingers wrapped around the fabric. 

“Let me guess,” he murmured, frowning softly at her, and she noted the fear in his eyes as he stared into hers. “It had something to do with a girl.” Lucy nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. 

“He did it for Jodie Foster,” Lucy explained, and both men sat back in their seats as she continued, “She played a twelve-year-old prostitute in _Taxi Cab_ and he became infatuated with her. He followed her to Yale, when she eventually went to complete her education, and would leave notes on her door and call her on the phone. He was convinced they were meant to be together, and saw nothing wrong with always contacting her.” Wyatt sat up straight, his face expressionless. 

“He harassed her,” he bit out, his teeth gritted. Lucy nodded, sighing. “Great, and now he seems to have a fixation on you.”

“Was Emma hoping he’d fall for her instead, or something?” Rufus asked, and Lucy turned to him, shaking her head as she frowned. 

“No, one of the reasons John was hospitalized as opposed to simply arrested and tried for attempted murder was because his father revealed that John made up this girlfriend, Lynn Collins, that he apparently dated on and off for years.” Both Wyatt and Rufus frowned at that as Wyatt buckled his seatbelt and Rufus began his pre-flight routine. “When they realized she wasn’t real, coupled with the fact that he had tried to kill the President to ‘save’ Jodie Foster, they declared him mentally insane and locked him away.” Wyatt smirked at her use of air quotes as Rufus chuckled, turning back in his seat to begin flying. 

“So, she’s pretending to be Lynn Collins? She’ll be a real person, now?” Wyatt asked as he gripped the restraints, the Lifeboat shaking all around them. Lucy didn’t respond, and he could tell she was on the verge of tears as she leaned her head back against the cushion. Through the haze of the jarring sensation as the Lifeboat continued to rumble as they were thrown through time, he reached his hand out, holding it in the open space with his eyes shut. Her fingers inserted themselves between his, and he caught the soft sound of a choked back sob just before they landed.                                                                                                    

* * *

Agent Christopher was just as upset with Rufus when she heard everything that happened. She was even more upset that the team had left before Emma had even returned, something that had completely slipped their minds in the moment. 

“Ma’am, all due respect, but my job is to protect my team,” Wyatt interrupted as she continued reprimanding them for being so careless. “And, Lucy was potentially in danger due to Rufus’ mistake. My only concern was getting them both out of there as quickly as possible.” Agent Christopher set her eyes on him, her gaze steely. 

“All due respect, Master Sergeant, your team could _still_ be in danger because you let Emma stay in that time period unsupervised.” Wyatt straightened as she moved to stand in front of him. “What if you’d come back and somehow, one of them no longer existed?” Wyatt’s eyes quickly flitted to Lucy as she inhaled sharply, the pain of losing her daughters still fresh. He tried to catch her gaze, but she kept her eyes trained on the floor as Agent Christopher sighed, closing her eyes as she attempted to calm herself. 

“What do we know about Lynn Collins?” Jiya spoke up from Rufus’ side. “Maybe we can look her up and see if anything changed.” Lucy shook her head, still staring at the floor.

“She didn’t exist before,” she replied. Wyatt sidled up next to her, slipping his arm around her waist, and she finally lifted her head to smile softly up at him, silently thanking him for the gesture. “Lynn Collins was a figment of John’s imagination, originally. There isn’t anything we would have known about her,” Lucy explained as she rested her head on Wyatt’s chest, her arms wrapping around his middle as he pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her hair. 

“How often did this Lynn Collins pop up?” Agent Christopher asked instead, and Lucy bit her lip as she tried to remember. 

“I think they dated briefly when he moved back to Evergreen,” she replied, frowning. “She was supposedly the reason John couldn’t come home for holidays. He was always with her and her family.” Agent Christopher nodded, taking a deep breath. She turned to Rufus, who had been sitting dejectedly in a chair at the table, Jiya’s arm wrapped comfortingly around his shoulder, the entire time. 

“I apologize for yelling at you, Rufus,” Agent Christopher murmured, and he looked up at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I know you didn’t mean to put Lucy in danger, and I promise you that we will all do our best to keep her safe. This wasn’t your fault.” He nodded, smiling tightly at her as Jiya threaded her fingers through his, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “You should all get home, get some sleep. Something tells me Emma won’t be waiting a week to make another trip this time.” 

Everyone exchanged nods and Jiya quickly helped Rufus up as Wyatt wound his arm further around Lucy’s waist, leaning down to kiss her gently. “Let’s go home,” he whispered against her lips, and she nodded, kissing him one more time before they turned and headed out of the conference room, tucked into each other. 

“See?” They heard Rufus all but squeal as they left. “I _told_ you something happened!” Lucy and Wyatt chuckled as they heard a muted yelp, presumably after Jiya had swatted at him for being so loud. 

* * *

Back in 1975, John was laying down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was racing with glimpses of soft brown eyes and dark curls, a pair of pink lips turned down in a frown. What was troubling her? He sighed wistfully as he recalled what the other gentleman had revealed. 

Lucy. 

Why did she frown? Who had made her so afraid? He needed to find out, needed to rescue her from whatever thoughts were plaguing her pretty head. He wondered what her eyes might look like, lit up with joy and excitement as opposed to the clouded gaze he’d met earlier. 

Then, there was that other man, with the strong jaw and blazing blue eyes. He’d stood in front of her as if he was protecting her, but from what? Him? John frowned up at the ceiling, shaking his head as his thoughts continued. Was _that_ man the reason for her fear? Had he harmed her, or said something to her? John gritted his teeth as thoughts of the man gripping her arm roughly, yanking her around, sprouted into the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t let that happen; he had to save her. 

John quickly sat up in bed, his mind racing as he tried to think of how he could get in contact with her, how he could attempt to rescue her from the man causing her sadness. They had all come to ask about the woman upstairs, Lynn Collins. Surely, that meant that Lynn knew her? 

With renewed hope, John leapt out of bed and crossed his apartment, pulling the door open to Lynn herself, just as her hand was raised to knock. 

“Oh, John,” Lynn gasped, startled, before chuckling softly. “I was just going to ask if you could spare some sugar. It seems I forgot to pack some.” John grinned, holding the door open. 

“Of course, Miss Collins, please come in.” Lynn nodded her thanks and followed John into his apartment, closing the door behind her. “It’s funny you should pop up, actually, as I was just on my way out to ask you a question.” Lynn raised her eyebrows as she sat down at the kitchen table, her gaze trained on him in curiosity. 

“Oh?” she asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as John rummaged through his cupboards to find the sugar. “And, what was the question?” He smiled at her as he pulled the sugar bowl from its hiding place and handed it to her. 

“How do you know Lucy?” he asked, sitting down next to her. Lynn froze, her eyes widening as they met his. She cleared her throat, looking down at the table. 

“How do _you_ know Lucy?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to meet his. He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, but Lynn stayed stiff in her seat. 

“She came with two gentlemen earlier, asking about you,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. Lynn smiled softly, relaxing into her seat, then, and he frowned at her. “You’re pleased they came looking?” She shrugged, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“I’d hoped they would,” she admitted. “What do you want to know about Lucy?” John’s smile slipped from his face, replaced with the pain he felt for her, seeing someone so beautiful so sad. 

“Why is she so sad? Is it because of that man?” he asked, leaning forward across the table. Lynn tilted her head, trying to come up with the right words. 

“Lucy has been through a lot,” she began, resting her hands flat on the table as she spoke. “She lost her father very young, and her mother betrayed her. She’s also lost a sister, recently; she went missing.” John frowned, his heart breaking with every word she spoke. “That man, though, isn’t what’s making her sad, I promise you.” He straightened up, his hands resting on the table as well. 

“Oh,” he murmured, frowning down at the tabletop. “I see.” Lynn nodded, biting her lip. 

“You are correct, though, John,” she continued, and he looked up to meet her worried gaze. “She _is_ in danger.” He leaned forward slightly again, hanging on every word that tumbled out of Lynn’s lips. “John, have you heard the name Rittenhouse?” 

John sat back, a chill running up his spine. Of course, he’d heard that name. His father and mother had been telling him all about it for years, all the great things he would do for them. He merely nodded, and Lynn continued. 

“In a few years, a man will run for President and win,” she informed him. “If you want to save Lucy, you’ll have to kill him. She’s Rittenhouse, too.” John’s head jerked up to frown softly at Lynn. So, Lucy was Rittenhouse, too. Perhaps that was why she was so sad; what had they done to her? Lynn had mentioned a dead father and a lost sister; could that be because of them?

Making a quick decision, John cleared his throat, leaning forward as he folded his hands on the table. 

“What do I have to do?”

* * *

The first thing Lucy and Wyatt did when they got back to his - their - apartment was take both of their cell phones and stuff them in a shoebox at the foot of their bed. Wyatt also shoved a few washcloths in there, to muffle any sound they might make. They knew Emma would leave again soon, but Wyatt just needed to make sure Lucy was okay before they went on any more trips. 

He sat on the edge of their bed, watching her carefully as she slowly made her way into their bedroom, kicking her shoes off as she walked, unzipping her dress with one hand and pulling her elastic out of her hair with the other. Wyatt caught her as she stumbled into his arms, tumbling back with her onto the mattress. He wrapped his arms around her as her shoulders shook, her face buried in his neck. 

“Luce, you can cry if you need to,” he whispered into her hair, placing a kiss there. She coiled her arms around his neck, pulling herself further up his body, tight against him, and he felt the beginnings of tears falling onto his skin. He sighed as she cried harder, his chest aching with every sound she made, every time she clutched him tighter as her body convulsed with uncontrolled sobs. “That’s right, baby, it’s okay,” he whispered, holding her tighter as she continued to cry for her girls, for Amy, for everything she’d been through, for the fear of being John’s new target. “Let it all out.” 

Eventually, the tears subsided, wallowing down into occasional sniffles as she nuzzled into his neck. She pulled away to look at him, and he reached up to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks and smooth her hair back from her sticky face. 

“I know you’re afraid,” he murmured to her unspoken admittance, and she nodded slightly. “But, Lucy, you know that I won’t let anything happen to you, right?” He stared into her eyes, his voice hard. “Nothing and no one is ever going to take you away from me again,” he declared, leaning his forehead against hers as his finger tilted her chin up. He kissed her, softly, slowly, and Lucy sighed, pulling herself closer. “I promise,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her again, firmly. She scraped her nails through his hair as she drew herself closer, climbing on top of him as he gripped her waist. He sat up, holding her in his lap, and she rolled her hips into his. 

Wyatt’s phone ringing at the foot of the bed interrupted them, and Lucy groaned as Wyatt lifted the lid from the shoebox, chuckling as he pulled his phone out. 

“Yes, ma’am?” he answered, and Lucy busied herself with tracing aimless patterns in the patch of skin of his stomach that was exposed as he sat up straight, his shirt riding up slightly. She climbed her fingers higher, slipping underneath his t-shirt, her whole hand sliding up his chest as she lingered kisses up and down the column of his throat. He smiled at her as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Not at all, ma’am. We can be there. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and turned to kiss her forehead. 

“Let me guess,” Lucy murmured as he rested his head against hers. “Emma’s taken the Mothership out again.” Wyatt shook his head and Lucy frowned, pulling back from him. “Who was that on the phone?”

“That fancy sushi place I promised I’d take you to,” he replied, smirking at her shocked expression. “We have a reservation next Thursday. Someone just dropped off the waiting list.” Lucy giggled, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. 

“I’ve never had sushi,” Lucy mumbled, and Wyatt nodded. 

“I know, which is why we’re going, no matter what.” Lucy tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at him. “No, I’m serious. Emma can’t take over our lives like this. My girlfriend wants to try sushi, so she’s going to try sushi next Thursday at the best sushi place in the city.” He punctuated the end of his mini speech with a sharp nod, pressing his lips to Lucy’s forehead as she gaped at him. He pulled back, panicking slightly. “What?”

Lucy giggled breathlessly, her lips spreading into a wide grin. “ _What_ did you just call me?” she asked, squinting at him as he realized what he said, his cheeks pinking immediately. “Did you just call me your _girlfriend_?” she teased, leaning into him, brushing her nose across his jaw. He huffed, smiling softly. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled, and Lucy laughed, pushing him back onto the mattress, rolling off of him and laying flat on her back, her hands resting over her stomach as she watched him duck his head in minor embarrassment. 

“Sorry, I can’t resist teasing my boyfriend,” she murmured, smiling up at him as he grinned down at her, his eyes filled with mirth as he leaned down to kiss her. 

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” he murmured, and she laughed, nodding as he shifted on top of her, running his fingers through her hair as he stroked his tongue against hers, drinking in every sound she made. 

* * *

The next morning, Wyatt rolled over to find the space that was normally occupied by a sleeping Lucy completely bare. The sheets were rumpled, but cold to the touch, and his mind raced as he immediately sat up, reaching for his boxers as he scrambled out of bed, fearing the worst. 

He burst through the bedroom door into the living room…

To find Lucy sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, wearing only his shirt and a small pair of panties, surrounded by books and papers, a pen stuck between her teeth. She looked up as he entered the room breathing heavily, pulling the pen from her mouth. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, wincing as he caught his breath, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“Leave a note next time,” he gasped, coughing slightly as he carefully stepped over her piles of research to sit behind her, pulling her back against his chest. “What is all this?” he asked, gesturing to the papers and books strewn across the living room floor and littering most of the coffee table, save for the three cups of coffee he recognized she’d probably consumed already. 

“I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about Emma controlling us,” she began, leaning back into his arms as she pulled her book back toward her, her brow furrowed as she scanned the page. “And, you’re right, but the truth of the matter is that she _does_ control us for the time being,” Lucy turned in his arms to smile softly at him. “Unless we get ahead of her.” He raised an eyebrow at that, and she turned back around, reaching across the piles for a piece of printer paper that was marked up with her very particular scrawl. 

“How long have you been up?” Wyatt asked, eyeing the three empty coffee cups again. Lucy shrugged, running her finger down the page. 

“A few hours, I think?” she guessed, her finger pausing at a date circled in red towards the bottom. “There, that’s where Emma’s going next.” He leaned in closer to read the page over her shoulder, resting his chin there. 

“April 10th, 1976?” he read out loud, frowning. “Why? What happens?” Lucy shook her head, smiling softly. 

“Nothing happens. _That’s_ why Emma will go.” 

Wyatt stared blankly at her. “You lost me,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. Lucy sighed, turning in his arms again to point at the date on the page. 

“April 1976. John moved back to Evergreen, Colorado at the beginning of the year. Nothing’s happening, his parents are out of town, and he’s just purchased a gun, going on something Lynn Collins warned him about,” Lucy read off the page, citing her research. Wyatt nodded, slowly beginning to understand. 

“Wait a minute, Reagan wasn’t actually assassinated, right?” he realized. Lucy grinned, shaking her head. “You said John _attempted_ to assassinate him. You think Emma’s trying to _help_ him finish the job? To actually succeed this time?” 

“Maybe,” she breathed, and he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Maybe Reagan wasn’t Rittenhouse. We know from experience that they don’t want someone with that kind of power that can’t be manipulated by them.” Wyatt stiffened as a thought crossed his mind. 

“But, they’re manipulating John,” he realized, sitting up straighter. Lucy frowned, gasping softly. “Emma’s got him wrapped around her little finger, somehow. You don’t think _he_ could be…?” Wyatt trailed off, watching Lucy carefully as she tried to piece it all together. 

“It’s possible,” she murmured, her frown growing deeper, and Wyatt tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I mean, he does do everything that’s asked of him, and his parents were fairly wealthy and pretty well off. John’s father might have been Rittenhouse, and maybe they were in the process of passing the torch to John.” 

“Maybe that’s _really_ why he went to L.A.?” Wyatt suggested, and Lucy nodded slowly. “Do we know of any members that were based in New Haven, Connecticut? Maybe they were watching over him?” She shook her head, sadly. 

“No, he definitely only moved to Yale to follow Jodie Foster,” Lucy began, reaching for another stack of papers. “Well, he had in our original history, anyway,” she amended and Wyatt frowned as she pointed out the paragraph she’d highlighted on the page. “It says here that he moved back to Evergreen after a few months in L.A. and stayed there for the remainder of his life until he went looking for Reagan.” Lucy paused, taking a shaky breath as she looked down. “He became infatuated with a mysterious stranger and spent the better half of his life searching for her.” 

Wyatt’s stomach twisted at that. He knew who she meant, who he was desperately searching for. 

“He never finds her,” Wyatt vowed, his jaw tight, his teeth gritted. Lucy sighed, leaning back into his chest, emotionally exhausted. “He’ll never find her. That’s one piece of history we won’t change.” Lucy nodded, yawning quietly, and despite their most recent conversation, Wyatt chuckled, quickly scooping her into his arms, standing in one fluid motion. “Come on, Luce, you need some sleep.” 

“I’m not tired,” she protested, biting back a yawn, all while resting her head against his shoulder and winding her arms around his neck. 

He carried her back into their room and tucked her into their bed, and he stayed with her while she slept, waiting patiently for Emma to jump to April 1976.

* * *

Emma waited three days, which gave Lucy, Rufus, and Wyatt plenty of time to reconvene at Mason Industries and share Lucy’s discoveries with Agent Christopher. 

“She’s trying to assassinate President Ronald Reagan?” 

Lucy and Wyatt exchanged a look as Lucy nodded, sitting down at the table across from Agent Christopher. 

“We think she’s trying to finish the job. John came very close, but Reagan was obviously able to pull through,” Lucy explained, folding her hands neatly on the table, stifling the shaking. “If she’s working on his marksmanship ability, he could get a clearer shot and successfully kill the President.” 

“Which we don’t want?” Rufus asked, slightly bitter, and Wyatt clapped a hand on his shoulder. Lucy glanced apologetically over her shoulder. 

“I know he wasn’t the best, but he’s part of history. We need him to survive.” Lucy smiled softly at him, teasing. “We won’t stop him getting shot, though. After all, we should still protect history.” Rufus cracked a small smile at that while Agent Christopher sighed, seemingly exasperated. 

“What happens on April 10th?” she asked, and Lucy turned back around, giving the agent her full attention. “You said history had already changed. He doesn’t move to New Haven at all, right?” Lucy nodded, and Wyatt noticed she’d stiffened slightly in her chair. “Why do you think he decided to go back to Evergreen?”

“Emma,” Wyatt bit out, moving to stand behind Lucy, discretely passing his fingers through her hair, watching as he shoulders sank and she relaxed back into her seat. “She’s visiting him every so often to help him shoot a gun.” 

“Does _Emma_ know how to shoot a gun?” Rufus asked, raising his hand slightly as he moved forward. He glanced over at Wyatt’s fingers in Lucy’s hair and tried to suppress a smirk. Wyatt shrugged, looking over at Rufus. 

“I’m not suggesting we stick around her long enough to find out,” he prefaced, and Lucy stiffened slightly at the idea. “But, I’m sure Flynn wouldn’t have picked her if she couldn’t hold her own.” 

“To be fair, he didn’t really ‘pick’ her,” Jiya stepped in, her head poking around the door. Agent Christopher sighed but motioned for her to come in and she quickly slipped through the door, closing it behind her. “Sorry, I could hear you from the hallway,” Jiya explained. Agent Christopher cocked an eyebrow at her, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

“You mean through the door you had your ear pressed up against?” she asked, tilting her head playfully. Jiya blushed, ducking her head as she moved to stand beside Rufus who chuckled and slung his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side. “So, our theory is Emma is training John to shoot so he can hit his intended target?” she confirmed with the rest of the team, and they all nodded. “Well, she hasn’t gone anywhere yet, but I’m sure she will, soon. Stay close by, just in case.” With that, she nodded curtly to each of them before standing from the table and leaving the conference room. 

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief as soon as the door clicked shut, and Lucy collapsed further into her chair as Wyatt moved closer to her, threading his fingers through hers as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. 

“Let’s go home,” she mumbled into his arm, and he nodded, pulling her up from her chair, their hands still joined. 

They were only halfway down the hallway, heading to the stairway that would lead to the main hall, when the sirens started going off. Wyatt slipped his arm around Lucy’s waist as they spun around in alarm. Rufus and Jiya were a few feet behind them, groaning as they headed back to the conference room, hand in hand. 

Emma had jumped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a LOT of people are on vacation (um, as you should be!!!) so make sure to read chapter 14 in case you missed it! :) Thanks for all the kudos and comments; y'all are the best and I don't think I thank you enough. So, thank you :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished mapping out the rest of this story. There will be 21 chapters and an epilogue, totaling to 22 chapters. 
> 
> There is a light at the end of this tunnel.

****Birds were chirping. The breeze was ruffling his hair. Cicadas screeched in the mid-day sun, and he squinted at the target affixed to the bale of hay. Lynn’s fingers were curled around his bicep, lowering his arm to a more relaxed position.

“Deep breaths, John,” she murmured into his ear, fixing his handle on the foreign object in his grasp. The metal was cool and smooth, but still felt rough in his hands. His pinky rested against the handle, his pointer finger poised to pull the trigger at any given moment. “Eye on the target, steady your grip, then shoot.” 

They were words she’d said a thousand times before, words she’d left scribbled on scraps of paper every time she visited briefly, for less than an hour each time. This was the longest she’d been with him, and though he had never thought of Lynn like that, he was hyper-aware of her slim waist pressed up against his as she steadied his aim one more time, trying to calm his nerves. 

“You can do this,” she encouraged, and he nodded minutely, trying to remain focused on the bullseye painted on the bale of hay in front of them. “For Lucy,” she reminded him, and he could feel the strength emanating from that one sentence fragment, just her name was enough to give him the power to pull the trigger. 

And he did. 

The bullet hit the second outermost ring, a whole six inches off of his intended target. 

“Better,” Lynn barked, moving away from him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Take a drink of water, and we can try again in a few minutes. Get your head on straight.” 

John nodded, his fingers shaking as he clicked the safety back into place and swiftly unloaded the gun of the five other bullets he’d yet to use. Lynn was clearly growing frustrated, though she did her best to hide it. This was the longest she’d been with him in a while, and he wondered if she only stayed for a limited amount of time often because she had other things to do for Rittenhouse, and he was just a stop on the way. 

He gulped down a glass of water, watching as she checked their surroundings, something she always did when she’d been with him for a while, as if she was worried she’d been followed. 

“Why do you not stay longer?” he asked her once, a few months earlier, when she’d finally deemed him ready to actually shoot the revolver she’d given him after he’d learned how to take it apart and put it back together in under five minutes. She’d shrugged, smiling that soft smile at him, her red hair shining in the sun.

“I like to watch my back,” she’d replied with a saucy giggle, tossing her hair back as she helped him reposition himself. “If I stay in one place for too long, some people might come after me.” 

She didn’t seem too worried about those people today, though, and judging by the man that hovered nearby, he wondered if she was, in fact, _waiting_ for these people to come after her. He wondered if she was expecting them. 

“Are you all set? Want to go again?” Lynn asked, and he nodded, setting his half-full glass of water down on the fencepost and taking position again, about fifteen feet away from the target. She’d warned him that his job would be to shoot at close-range, so he might as well get used to it. 

John took a deep breath, then loaded the gun with the five bullets he hadn’t used earlier. 

* * *

 

Wyatt crouched behind the far side of the barn, peeking around the faded red siding, Lucy and Rufus tucked close behind him. Emma had her hand on John’s arm, helping him aim down the barrel at the painted target on the bale of hay. He was shooting at an object only fifteen feet away, and Wyatt realized with a bitter shake of his head that she was preparing him for shooting Reagan at close-range. 

The gunshot went off, and he felt Lucy flinch against him at the sound. He reached behind him to pull her closer, her chest pressed against his back as he surveyed the area. Emma was alone, save for John of course, and kept glancing around her when John would unload and re-load his gun. At least she was teaching him proper gun safety, Wyatt thought bitterly as he shifted slightly, still keeping a tight hold on Lucy. Rufus also had his hand rested on her shoulder, and he knew she appreciated the comfort from both teammates. 

“I think I can get the drop on her,” Wyatt whispered, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his gun, flicking the safety on as he steadied his aim and set Emma in his sights. Lucy’s hand tightened on his arm and he lowered his gun, frowning softly at her. 

“You can’t hit him,” she reminded him. “As much as I’d like you to, and as much as I know you want to,” she paused, taking a shaky breath, but sat up a little straighter. “You can’t shoot John.” Wyatt nodded, smiling tightly at her before turning back around, aiming at Emma again. 

She stood too close to John, trying to help him shoot at the target one more time, still glancing around every so often. He flicked the safety off, his finger resting on the trigger. 

“Wyatt, no, watch out!” Lucy’s hand tightened around his arm, yanking him back. He lost his aim, falling backwards into her as a bullet whipped just past his ear, splintering the wood where he’d been sitting seconds ago. Wyatt quickly got his bearings, standing in place and aiming at where the gunshot had come from: one of Emma’s nameless thugs. 

“Wonderful!” Emma had moved away from John, pulling her own gun out of her waistband, beginning to fire at Wyatt. “I was wondering when you three would show up. I figured waiting longer than an hour in one place would finally kickstart the trace you’ve placed on the Mothership.” Rufus stumbled backward at that, frowning as Emma aimed her gun at Lucy instead, who stood frozen with fear. “Did you miss me?” she teased, grinning darkly at the historian. Wyatt gritted his teeth, aiming two lethal shots at her henchman before stepping swiftly in front of Lucy, aiming his gun at Emma. 

“What’s your endgame, Emma?” Wyatt asked, watching her every move as she glanced back to make sure John was safe. His promise to Lucy not to hurt the man echoed in the back of his mind, even as he noticed John’s eyes locked on Lucy’s small frame, hidden behind him. 

“I’m sure your girlfriend here can tell you that,” she teased, taking a step closer to Wyatt and Lucy. Rufus reached out slowly, carefully, and gently tugged on Lucy’s wrist. Wyatt held back a sigh of relief. _Good idea, Rufus. Get her out of here._

Wyatt felt Lucy’s absence instantly, and as soon as he was certain she wasn’t touching him anymore, he launched himself toward Emma, firing. Emma barely dodged his bullet, startled, and aimed one of her own that grazed his shoulder. 

He clutched at his arm, grunting as he fired another shot at Emma, who had turned and grabbed John, running away. Her henchman lay dead on the ground, slumped over in a pool of his own blood, dripping from the wounds in his chest. Wyatt sighed, patting down his pockets for good measure, but knowing that Emma would have done a better job of protecting him if he’d had any useful information on him. 

“Wyatt!” 

Wyatt grunted, stumbling backwards as Lucy ran into his chest, her arms curling tight around his neck. He steadied her as she pulled away slightly to press her lips to his, and he could feel her tears on his cheeks. 

“Hey,” he murmured against her lips as she kissed him again. “Luce, I’m okay, it’s okay,” he assured her, wrapping her in his arms as she buried her face in his neck. He glanced over her shoulder to find Rufus, complete with a shit-eating grin, having witnessed what had just transpired. Wyatt fondly rolled his eyes as Rufus smiled at both of his friends, making a note to deal with him later. Lucy was still holding him tight, and he fitted his arm around her waist, pulling her back towards Rufus so they could all make their way back to the Lifeboat, taking care not to show any pain from the wound in his arm when she eventually pulled her face away from his neck to rest in the crook of his shoulder as they walked. 

* * *

 

John watched through the foggy glass of the barn windows while Lynn put his gun back in the toolbox she kept locked away for when she wasn’t near. He’d see her again in a few weeks, he knew, but he wanted to tear that gun out of it’s padding and aim it at the man Lucy was still coiled around. 

“Did you mean to kill him?” John asked, his voice hard. Lynn shook her head as she fastened the box and tucked it back into it’s hiding place, so his parents wouldn’t find it when they came to do their chores. John gaped at her, dumbfounded. “Why let him live?” 

“Wyatt Logan is the only man Lucy Preston has ever cared about,” Lynn replied simply, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. “We’re still trying to get Lucy to trust us, to join us,” she reminded him, turning around and standing up straight as she met his gaze. “You hurt Wyatt, you lose Lucy forever.” 

John gritted his teeth and shook his head, clenching his jaw as the memory of Lucy running headlong into that man’s arms played over and over, accompanied by her kissing him soundly, her hands gripping his cheeks, pulling him close as he tried to speak to her. 

“She loves him, John,” Lynn muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder, fixing the hat on her head. “We need to play this right, and for this to work, at least for now, Wyatt needs to stay alive.” She crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you understand?” 

John nodded, smiling tightly at Lynn as she beamed at him, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the evening sunset. 

“Well, I must be going, but you did a splendid job, today. Hold onto this anger, and I’ll see you in a couple weeks to work on it some more.” John nodded silently as she hefted her bag onto her shoulder and made her way out of the barn. 

“How long will you stay this time?” John called out as she paused with her hand on the handle of the door. “Are you still waiting for them to find you?” She tossed her hair back, smiling over her shoulder at him as she opened the door. 

“I’ll stay for less than an hour each time,” she admitted. “But, it will be more often. We need to make sure you’re prepared for the big day.” 

With that final word, Lynn slipped through the open door, gently closing it behind her, shrouding John and the rest of the barn in darkness, the only light filtering in through the windows. 

* * *

Rufus and Lucy each held onto Wyatt as he stumbled back towards the Lifeboat, which they’d parked about a mile away from John’s house, thinking Emma might be there at first. Lucy had remembered his family’s old barn, another few miles away from his house, and the perfect place to practice shooting without interruptions. 

Wyatt kept his hand on Rufus’ shoulder as he led the way, and an arm wrapped around Lucy’s waist as she quietly shuffled alongside him. He frowned softly down at her as Rufus paused, glancing around at the terrain, pretty flat, unfortunately, before nodding slightly and heading off in a slightly different direction. 

“What’s up, buttercup?” he teased her gently, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, and Lucy smiled, looking up at him. “Why the face?” She shrugged, biting her lip, and he was thankful when Rufus paused again to assess their surroundings. 

“It’s just, this is all my fault,” Lucy breathed, her eyes tearing up. “I’m the reason for all of this. Emma’s told him something that’s causing him to do this and it involves me.” Wyatt shook his head, but Lucy continued. “No, Wyatt, this is my fault. But, maybe that means I could fix it?” she asked hopefully, and Rufus spun around to frown at her as well. 

“How do you think you can fix it?” he asked, squinting at her in confusion. Wyatt raised a hand to second the inquiry and Lucy sighed. 

“Maybe I can use his obsession with me to get him to change his mind,” she suggested, and Wyatt tightened his hold on her as he realized what she was suggesting. 

“You want to talk to him?” he clarified, and Rufus vehemently shook his head as Wyatt scoffed. “No way, Lucy, that is way too dangerous.” 

“Then, you come with me!” Wyatt shook his head again, and Rufus sighed, resting a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. 

“Look, Lucy, I know you feel like this is all your fault, but it isn’t. It’s Emma’s. She is the only one to blame for this.” Rufus squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. Lucy smiled softly up at him. 

“Plus, even if you _could_ convince him not to shoot Reagan, in the end, he has to,” Wyatt reminded her. “If he didn’t even _try_ shooting Reagan, it would change history.” 

Lucy was silent, and she looked down at the dusty ground. Wyatt straightened up as Rufus cleared his throat. 

“I’m going to go find the Lifeboat,” he murmured as Wyatt pulled slightly away from Lucy. She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes, biting her lip as he frowned down at her. 

“You _want_ to change history?” he asked her incredulously. 

“For the better,” she argued, and Wyatt actually staggered back, as if she had slapped him across the face. “Wyatt, Reagan doesn’t die anyway, so why should John even shoot him? What did we learn from all this, besides how to ruin a young man’s life? What if I can convince him not to shoot at all, and we can get him the help he needs? He could live an entirely different life.” 

“Lucy, that’s not what’s supposed to happen,” he argued, and she huffed. “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion. I can’t believe you’re completely alright with _changing history_.” Lucy opened her mouth to argue, but he held a hand up to stop her. “No, don’t tell me it’s ‘for the better’,” he spat. “How many times have we had this exact discussion, about making changes to make things better? How many people have we let die because history said it was meant to be?” His voice cracked as he gestured back towards the direction Rufus had hurried off in. “We let Lincoln die, Lucy. Don’t you think we might have changed history for the better if he’d survived? Don’t you think Rufus’ history would’ve been better?” 

“That’s not fair,” Lucy hissed, her eyes narrowing. “Lincoln was meant to die, and if we’d let him live, we don’t know what kind of present we could’ve gone back to.” Wyatt raised his eyebrows at her. “It is _not_ the same thing, Wyatt. Reagan doesn’t die, so why should John even have to shoot? This won’t change anything.” 

“You don’t _know_ that, Lucy!” Wyatt cried, gripping her arms roughly. “How do you know it won’t change anything? What if this erases someone? What if someone else loses their kids?” 

Lucy’s eyes widened and she pulled away from Wyatt as he closed his eyes, trying to quickly calm himself down. 

“Lucy, wait,” he called out as she turned on her heel and stalked off in the opposite direction. “Lucy, I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry!” She didn’t turn around, and he let her go, knowing that he was completely out of line by bringing the girls up like that. 

He shuffled back toward the Lifeboat, mentally kicking himself the entire way there. It was Jessica all over again, he lamented as he kicked some dust up in frustration. He’d let his anger get the best of him and said things that he knew would hurt, that he knew would elicit a reaction. 

It was worse than leaving her on the side of the road. 

Wyatt froze as he looked up at the Lifeboat. It wasn’t _worse_ than leaving her on the side of the road, he realized. It was the same. 

“Shit,” he mumbled, doubling back. Rufus called after him, having poked his head out of the Lifeboat to ask where Lucy was, only to find Wyatt running away. 

Wyatt ran as fast as he could, straight back to where he’d left her, already knowing she wouldn’t be there. But, he couldn’t let her meet the same fate as Jess. She was in too much danger; he never should’ve let her walk away from him. 

* * *

Lucy had no idea where she was going, she just knew she had to get away. How _dare_ he use her daughters’ disappearance against her like that? That was low. She sighed, frustrated, as she glanced around at the rolling fields and clear lakes, the evenly spaced houses dotting the landscape, realizing she had no idea where she was, or which way to go to get back to the Lifeboat. 

She kept walking forward, tears stinging her eyes as they slid down her cheeks while she muscled her way through the dust that was blown up from the ground. 

“Lucy?”

She froze, turning around as she realized where she’d stopped. 

More to the point, whose house she had stopped in front of. 

Lucy pasted on a wide smile, trying to hide the fear in her eyes as she met John’s worried gaze. “John,” she greeted, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t realize this was your place,” she murmured. He frowned at her, and she fought the urge to step back as he moved closer. 

“Are you alright? Have you been crying?” he asked, gesturing to the tear tracks lining her cheeks. She hastily swiped at her face, laughing softly. She thought about lying to him, about just turning on her heel and going back to find Wyatt. 

But, this was her chance. Maybe she could prove Wyatt wrong. 

“I’m fine,” she lied, smiling brightly as she frowned softly at him, almost worrying. “How are you? What was it that Lynn had you working on earlier?” John chuckled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Ah, you saw that?” he asked, and when Lucy nodded, he shrugged halfheartedly. “She’s just got me studying how to shoot a revolver properly. Apparently it’s a useful skill to have.” Lucy nodded slowly, the smile slipping off her face. “Besides, it will help me protect you, dear Lucy,” he added, and she smiled tightly, swallowing down the bile that threatened to creep up her throat at his words. 

“I know what she wants you to do, John,” she whispered, and he froze where he stood, his eyes widened slightly at her implication. “I know you think it will save me, but please, it won’t. You don’t have to do this.” 

“Do what?” he asked, chuckling nervously, but Lucy merely shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading. 

“John, you will ruin your own life for the sake of some secret organization’s. It’s not worth it, I promise you.” Lucy inched closer while he continued to stand frozen in place, watching her carefully. “Emma,” Lucy paused, catching herself, “ _Lynn_ isn’t thinking about your best interests. She is only thinking about what Rittenhouse has told her to do.” He flinched at the name, and she wondered - hoped - that the name inflicted as much fear in his heart as it did in hers. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that he is a good man,” she prefaced and he straightened up slightly at that, frowning softly at her. “But, he doesn’t deserve to die. You will change everything, and ruin your life in the process.” 

John stood there, simply staring at her as she struggled to even out her breathing in the presence of a would-be murderer who was infatuated with her. She held back every shiver that tickled her spine as his eyes trailed over her, up and down her form, appraising her. 

“Dear Lucy,” he began, and when he spoke, it was with a low tone that elicited goosebumps. “You don’t know what you need. You don’t know that this man is good or bad, or what Rittenhouse wants with him.” He spoke the name so carefully, as if it was precious to him, and Lucy bit her lip at the idea that it evoked any kind of negative emotion; he spoke of it as if it was an old friend. “But, that’s alright, because I know enough for the both of us, and I will protect you.” John offered her a smile, but Lucy wasn’t able to pretend any longer. She wanted to go home. 

Lucy turned on her heel and attempted to run in the opposite direction, but John was quicker than her, reaching out and latching onto her arm, his entire hand encircling her thin wrist. She tugged her arm away, but he held on tight, smiling the entire time. This was a game to him. 

“Please, John, just let me go,” she gasped as she struggled to get out of his grip, but he simply shook his head, a hint of sadness coloring his eyes. 

“You’ll go away again,” he reasoned. “And, I just got you back. Stay here with me, and I’ll protect you. I’ll protect the both of us.” Lucy shook her head, yanking her arm back again with a small cry. 

“Wyatt!” It was a force of habit; she was in trouble, and she knew it was a long-shot, but she needed help. 

Thankfully, he hadn’t been too far behind her. 

John’s grip faltered as she called out for Wyatt, which was just enough for Lucy to pull her arm out of his grip completely and run back the way she’d come. She was looking over her shoulder, wondering if John would follow her, when she collided with a strong form. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Wyatt breathed as his arms encircled her and she stopped struggling and allowed herself to sag against his chest, her arms wrapping tight around his middle. “Lucy, I am so sorry for what I said,” he murmured against her hair and she shook her head, pulling back to look up at him. 

“I couldn’t change his mind,” she whimpered, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I tried, even though you told me not to, but he’s so set in his ways. He really believes this will be better in the end.” Wyatt nodded stiffly, pulling Lucy back into his chest and holding her close, dusting soft kisses over the top of her head. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured her as she cried into his shirt. “Luce, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Hey,” he pulled back to take her face in his hands. “We’ll make it up as we go,” he murmured and she huffed a laugh as he leaned in to kiss her firmly. “Let’s go home?” he suggested, tucking his arm around her and pulling her alongside him as they made their way back to the Lifeboat. 

* * *

The ride home was mostly silent, save for the whirring of the Lifeboat as Rufus steered them through a wormhole back to the present. Once they landed, Agent Christopher could read the room well enough to know that something had happened while the team was in 1976 and Wyatt was grateful when she took their simple three-sentence debrief as all she was going to get and sent them all on their way. He had to get Lucy home, had to talk to her about what had happened. 

When they entered their apartment, Lucy headed straight for the bedroom, peeling off her dress as she moved. Wyatt sighed, watching her toe off her flats as she left her dress in the middle of the floor. He made his way to the kitchen to set the kettle on the stove. 

Lucy wordlessly moved around their room as Wyatt stood in the doorway, watching her carefully. She rummaged through her drawer, pulling out fuzzy socks and flannel pajama pants. Then, she walked into the closet and pulled a large t-shirt from a hanger on Wyatt’s side. 

“Luce,” Wyatt tried as she stepped out of the closet, still clad in just her bra and panties, the items of clothing wrapped up in her arms. She simply shook her head at him and turned around to begin dressing. 

The kettle began to whistle and Wyatt left the bedroom to grab it, pulling down two mugs from the overhead cabinet. He made sure to grab a small bowl of mini marshmallows before he met Lucy, now fully dressed in her cozy pajamas, on the couch with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, accepting his offered mug and took a large sip, closing her eyes and breathing in the steam wafting from the drink. He sat beside her and let her tuck herself into his side, her head resting on his chest as she sipped her hot chocolate carefully. 

“You know,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “We are going to have to talk about what happened, eventually.” Lucy nodded, turning to look up at him solemnly. 

“I know,” she whispered, snuggling closer to him and kissing him gently. She lingered there, her lips brushing against his, their breaths mingling. “Can we just sit here for a bit?” she asked, pulling away to look up at him with her big brown eyes. “It’s been a long day.” 

Wyatt huffed a laugh, hugging her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. “You’re telling me,” he grumbled. 

They sat in silence for the rest of the evening, sipping their cocoa and each getting lost in their own heads.


	17. Chapter 17

****The silence couldn’t last forever, and eventually, Wyatt and Lucy had to discuss what had happened.

It was five days before Lucy finally cracked. She was sitting in the living room, poring over more research regarding John while Wyatt cleaned his guns.

“Are you ever going to talk to me again?” she cried out finally, frustrated. Wyatt looked up at her, his eyes wide. “I know I asked if we could talk later but this radio silence thing is killing me, Wyatt, okay? I’m sorry I ran off and I’m sorry I tried to change history. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Wyatt sighed, snapping his gun shut. Lucy jumped as the metal clattered together. 

“I shouldn’t have walked away,” he murmured as he moved on to the next gun. Lucy stiffened at that, frowning softly. “I shouldn’t have left you, I should’ve followed after you when you ran off.” He shook his head, almost muttering to himself, seemingly having forgotten Lucy was even there. She crept from her spot on the couch to the table, sitting down in the chair directly next to him. 

“Wyatt, look at me,” Lucy pleaded, but Wyatt only shook his head, polishing the inside of his gun. 

“No, it was my fault.” Wyatt’s hands started to shake and Lucy covered them with her own, her bottom lip trembling as she recognized the set of his shoulders when he was trying not to get too emotional. “It’s nothing you can say, Lucy, and I’m sorry you think this was your fault.”

“But, it _was_ my fault,” Lucy insisted, squeezing his hands in hers. “Wyatt, I didn’t want you to run after me. I wouldn’t have gone back with you if you had. I put myself in danger by getting lost, okay?” She moved her hands up to cradle his face, her thumbs gently swiping at the moisture that had accumulated under his eyes. “This wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you thought that.” Wyatt shook his head again, sighing heavily. 

“Lucy, if you’d gotten hurt or,” he stopped, unable to even speak the word. “I could’ve lost you,” he said instead. “And it would have been _my_ fault for not going after you.” Lucy straightened up as she realized why he was so upset and intent on blaming himself. 

“Wyatt Logan, you listen to me,” she ordered in a firm voice, her gentle hands a stark contrast. “I am not Jessica. That isn’t a recurring thing, okay? Just because I ran off and you decided to give me space does not mean that it would’ve been your fault if,” Lucy paused, taking a deep breath as she felt Wyatt freeze underneath her fingertips. “It was all me, and more to the point, it would have been all John.” 

“You said you couldn’t convince him,” Wyatt remembered, straightening up, and the color slowly began to creep back into his cheeks. “But, you tried?” Lucy nodded. “What did he say to you?” 

Lucy shivered as the memories came back to her. “He said that I didn’t know what I needed, but he knew enough for the both of us.” Wyatt frowned at her. “He asked me to stay, and when I said no, he grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let me go.” 

“How did you get away?”

Lucy sighed, smiling softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned into the touch, his eyes slowly slipping closed. “I called out for you,” she murmured. His eyes fluttered open, and she smiled wider at him as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on his lips. He drew her closer, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist, his hands venturing up her body to tangle in her hair as she shifted to straddle his lap, her legs hooking around the legs of the dining room chair. Her arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer, pressing her upper body flush against his. 

End of discussion.

* * *

Wyatt woke up early the next morning, Lucy wrapped around him once more, right where she belonged. One cursory glance out of the window told him it was still too early to be awake. He was slowly sitting up, wondering what had woken him, when his phone began to vibrate next to his pillow. 

Ah.

He quickly snatched it up, answering the call before Lucy could wake. “Where did she go?” he grumbled into the phone under his breath as he tried to gently ease his arm out from under Lucy so he could talk more in the kitchen. 

“Nowhere,” Rufus replied, and Wyatt could hear the confusion in his friend’s voice. “She’s not in the present, she’s not in the past, she’s nowhere to be found.” 

“You mean, Emma disappeared?” Wyatt murmured as he finally extracted his arm from Lucy’s hold and made his way out into the hallway. “How is that possible? I thought the Mothership had a tracking device.” 

“It does!” Rufus sighed, and Wyatt could hear him counting under his breath, trying to calm himself down. “It does,” Rufus repeated, and Wyatt could hear the faint whisper of Jiya’s voice in the background. “Look, just wake our girl up and get down here as fast as you can. We need to figure out what’s going on.” 

“Yeah, man, we’re on our way,” Wyatt barked into the phone before hanging it up, turning around to head back into the bedroom to wake Lucy. 

But, Lucy was already awake, leaning against the doorway wearing nothing but his t-shirt, a worried frown marring her face. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked as Wyatt sped past her, grabbing a pair of jeans from her drawer and a bra to slip on under his t-shirt. She caught the garments as he tossed them at her, and pulled them on as Wyatt slipped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a black t-shirt, grabbing his holster off the bedpost. “Wyatt,” she called as he kissed her quickly and pulled her toward the front door. “Wyatt, what’s going on?” 

“Emma’s missing,” he answered, tucking her close to him as they left the apartment and he locked the door behind them. “I think she might have removed the tracking mechanism on the Mothership.” Lucy froze on the top step as Wyatt quickly bounded down the stairs towards his car. “Lucy, baby, you have to come with me,” he called up, holding his hand out to her. “We’re going to figure everything out, I promise, but I need you to come with me, okay?” 

Lucy nodded, slowly stepping carefully down the stairs. Her feet touched the ground and her hand was grasped tightly in Wyatt’s, and he was pulling her toward the car before she could even realize she had moved. 

* * *

 

Lucy’s head was spinning. Either that or the room was spinning, and she was powerless to stop it. The only grounding principle was Wyatt, sitting directly next to her, holding her hands tightly in his. 

Either Emma had found a way to disable the tracking device on the Mothership, or she had ventured into the future, which was unattainable in the Lifeboat. Jiya had been furiously typing since Lucy and Wyatt had arrived, and Rufus was pacing back and forth on the dock in front of the time machine, ducking into the cockpit every so often to check the CPU. 

They were all currently mulling over the possibility that Emma had gone into the future, and Lucy wondered if their lives would change at all if Emma did something in the future. She could control their lives without them ever knowing it, she realized. Emma could kill one of them in the future, and they’d be none the wiser, not knowing when and where they would eventually die at her hands. 

Lucy shivered at the thought, and Wyatt moved closer to wrap an arm around her, his hand rubbing up and down her arm in an effort to soothe her as he asked Rufus if the Mothership had shown back up yet. 

“I got it!” Jiya called out, startling everyone into a frenzy. “I found the Mothership. She’s still in the present.” Everyone sighed in relief before Agent Christopher and Connor Mason hastily made their way over to Jiya’s computer. 

“How did we lose it in the first place?” Connor asked, taking a seat next to her and beginning to track the Mothership as well. Sure enough, Emma was still in 2017, no sign of having moved at all from wherever she’d parked the damn thing. 

“She looks like she hasn’t left 2017 at all,” Wyatt pointed out, Jiya frowning down at the numerous charts that said the Mothership had been there the whole time. “Are we sure we didn’t just crash or something? Maybe the system went down and we only _thought_ she disappeared?” Jiya shook her head, glancing between the computer screen and Wyatt. 

“No, we searched everything. It wasn’t the system that was giving us trouble,” Jiya insisted. “The Mothership was truly not here.” Rufus nodded, placing a comforting hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder as she continued to analyze the Mothership’s current position, trying to figure out why it wasn’t there a minute ago. 

“How long does Emma have to be gone before we’re alerted?” Lucy asked suddenly, and Wyatt turned to frown gently at her. Rufus cocked his head as well, frowning at his teammate. 

“Not sure what you mean, Lucy,” he murmured, straightening up. 

“Well, when Flynn jumped in the Mothership, back and forth from time to time with the nuke-powered battery, we weren’t alerted every single time he jumped, right?” Lucy explained. Wyatt’s eyes widened slowly as he understood what she was implying. 

“Emma’s been jumping without our knowledge,” he muttered, and Lucy nodded emphatically. “That’s how she’s got such a good rapport with John already. To us, they’ve only met twice, but I bet she figured out how long it takes to notify us that the Mothership is missing and she’s been to see him more times than we know.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Lucy admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded the computer screen over Jiya’s shoulder. 

“Well, how long _does_ it take for us to be alerted, then?” Agent Christopher asked, frowning between Jiya, Connor, and Rufus. Rufus and Connor met eyes and shrugged while Jiya shook her head helplessly. 

“Maybe an hour?” she whispered, wincing at Agent Christopher’s expression. “ _Maybe_ , I said. It could be shorter than that,” Jiya reminded her, hopefully. Rufus shrugged, tilting his head. 

“Or, it could be longer than that. Maybe even ninety minutes,” he realized, frowning at the computer screen. 

“Well, how long was she missing just now?” Wyatt asked, turning back to Connor. 

“Forty-five minutes,” he answered matter-of-factly. “It _is_ , unfortunately, entirely possible that Emma has figured out that as long as she stays put under a certain amount of time, we’ll be none the wiser.” Lucy scoffed at that, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. 

“Do you have _any_ idea how much trouble she could’ve caused without our knowledge? I mean, forget building this rapport with John, what else has she been doing all this time? When exactly did she find this out?” Wyatt placed a comforting hand on her shoulder in a small effort to calm her down, and she smiled gratefully at him, slipping her arm around his waist and tucking her head into his neck. “Do we have any way to track her within the grace period?” 

“Our best bet is to just watch her at all times and the minute she disappears, we’ll have to figure out where she’s going,” Rufus suggested, and Wyatt groaned, resting his head on top of Lucy’s. 

“Look, I’ll be the first to advocate for Lucy’s brilliance,” he began, and Lucy grinned up at him, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “But, come on, even she can’t figure out exactly which date Emma is going to. Is there a way to ground her, maybe? Shut down the Mothership remotely so she’s down for the count for a little while?” Rufus’ eyebrows rose at the suggestion and he exchanged a look with Connor before they both launched themselves at their respective computers. “Is that not something we thought to try before?” Wyatt deadpanned, looking thoroughly unamused. 

“Well, we toyed with the idea,” Rufus clarified, “but we were never quite sure how to do it. But, if Emma hasn’t disabled the tracking device, it’s not because she doesn’t know how to,” he explained as he continued typing away on his keyboard. Jiya nodded, picking up where he left off. 

“She _wants_ Lucy to find her, remember?” she reminded them, and Lucy and Wyatt nodded for her to continue. “So, she wouldn’t disable the tracking device. But, maybe since we still have that connection to the Mothership, we can use it against her.” 

“How?” Lucy asked, stepping forward with interest. 

“We might be able to ground her, as you so aptly put it Mr. Logan, by removing the tracking capability from both sides,” Connor finished. 

Wyatt and Lucy looked at each other, frowning in confusion. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” Agent Christopher spoke up, crossing her arms. “Do you mean that you’re _removing_ our ability to track the Mothership?” she asked incredulously. Connor nodded, grinning at her. 

“And, in turn, removing Emma’s ability to track the Lifeboat,” he edged. Lucy gasped, straightening up. 

“She won’t go anywhere because she’ll think _we’ve_ gone somewhere,” she realized. “She’ll think we’re one step ahead of her, when really, we’ll be right here.” Connor and Rufus both nodded, grinning at Lucy. 

“Nice job, professor Preston,” Rufus complimented and Lucy laughed. “In theory, yes, Emma should stay here purely because she’ll be confused as to where the Lifeboat has gone. If I know Emma as well as I think, she’ll probably come looking for us before she jumps to conclusions. We’ll have to come up with a good cover.” 

“Why don’t we just take the Lifeboat somewhere?” Wyatt suggested, wrapping his arms around Lucy’s middle and resting his chin on her shoulder. She smiled at him, kissing his cheek.

“No unauthorized missions,” Agent Christopher scolded, and Wyatt held his hands up in mock surrender. “As long as Emma stays put, I suppose we’ll all have to stay put.” 

“How long do you think it’ll take Emma to figure it out?” Lucy asked Jiya who had been frowning over the charts during the discussion. She shrugged, turning to Lucy. 

“Hard to say, but at least a few days, I’d think.” Jiya grinned up at her. “Looks like the team just earned a much-needed vacation.” 

* * *

 

Two days into the well-deserved vacation and Emma still hadn’t figured out where the Lifeboat had gone, or how to re-establish the tracking device, so Thursday night, Wyatt and Lucy got dressed up and drove to Delage in Old Oakland. 

“You are aware that Oakland, California is actually one of the most crime-ridden cities in the entire country, aren’t you?” Lucy asked as she stared out the window, cocking an eyebrow at Wyatt. He chuckled, sliding an arm around the back of the headrest. 

“You scared, babydoll?” he teased, tilting his head at her. She rolled her eyes but snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his outstretched arm. 

“I know you’ll protect me,” she murmured into his sleeve and he stiffened slightly, clearing his throat as he pulled into a metered spot on the street. 

“Always,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead before he unbuckled and climbed out of the car. Lucy waited patiently as he circled the car to open her door, extending his hand for her to take. She gladly accepted and he helped her out of the car. 

“So, remind me what sushi is,” Lucy prompted as they began to walk hand-in-hand. Wyatt scoffed, squeezing her hand. 

“You can remember all of the Presidents and their birthdays, but you can’t remember what’s in a California roll?” Lucy shrugged and he chuckled, pulling her closer. “Come on, we can’t miss our table time. If we’re even five minutes late, they give your table to the next person to come in and ask about walk-ins.” Lucy shuffled closer and they picked up the pace as they crossed the street to the small renowned sushi bar. 

* * *

 

Once Wyatt had gracefully shown Lucy how to split her chopsticks and scrape them together to sand down the sides, their server laid down the first course of their meal and her eyes widened comically, so much so that Wyatt chuckled and leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

“I thought we were having sushi,” she murmured as she tilted her head at the plate of food that had just been set down between them. There were two rolls of what looked like the whitest lettuce Lucy had ever seen, and inside were bits of orange veggies and what looked like salmon. Wyatt chuckled, and demonstrated how to hold the chopsticks, which Lucy only slightly struggled with. 

“It’s a course-based meal, which is why you need to make a reservation,” he explained as he plucked one of the white rolls and set it onto her small plate. “This is called hishiyo maki. It’s got salmon, daikon, carrots, cucumber, egg, and vinegar sauce.” Lucy wrinkled her nose at the vinegar sauce portion, and Wyatt shook his head, smiling at her. “It’s good, Luce, I promise. Take a bite,” he prompted as he moved the last piece to his plate and began fixing a pool of soy sauce with wasabi to dip the piece of food into. 

“What’s daikon?” she asked, picking the piece of food up with her chopsticks and regarding it suspiciously. 

“The white stuff that it’s wrapped in. I think it’s a root vegetable,” Wyatt replied as he popped the entire piece, one side dripping with his soy sauce and wasabi mixture, into his mouth and chewed as Lucy watched, her eyes wide. “It’s not as big as it looks,” he promised, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Come on, Luce, just try it. Don’t think, just do.” 

Lucy nodded, frowning softly at the wrapped fish again. But, she closed her eyes and placed the small wrap on her tongue. The flavors overwhelmed her at once, and she could taste everything that Wyatt had just named: the egg was soft and pliant, and the carrots and cucumber added a sweetness along with a pleasant crunch, while the salmon was fresh and chewy. The vinegar sauce added a slight kick to the end, and as soon as she was finished chewing, she reached for her glass of wine and took a generous sip. 

“Good, right?” Wyatt grinned at her and she nodded, beaming at him. “Wait until the next course.”

Sure enough, the next course came out almost as soon as their small plates were cleared and replaced. The server smiled warmly at the couple as she set down what looked like a wooden plank with two pieces of large asparagus covered in wiry thin veggies on a bed of a creamy sauce. Wyatt smiled at her as he began distributing the food onto their separate plates. 

“Alright, Master Sergeant, what’s this?” Lucy asked as she looked down at what he had just put on her plate. He licked a stripe of the sauce off his thumb as he pointed out everything. 

“This is asparagus with spring peas, a poached quail egg, fried leeks, and Yuzu dressing.” Lucy nodded along as he named all the items. “Now, this isn’t something you should try to get all in one bite. I recommend foregoing the chopsticks for this one and opting for a fork and knife instead,” he suggested, pulling her fork and knife out of the rolled napkin the server had set next to the plank. 

Lucy nodded and cut her asparagus in half, making sure to pile on as much of the veggies she could fit on her fork. She glanced at Wyatt before she took a bite, smirking at his waiting expression. The asparagus was crunchy and the leeks, which she’d never had before, were slightly salty. She hummed her approval and Wyatt chuckled as they both ate quietly. 

“How many courses are there?” Lucy asked as their plates were cleared away. Wyatt turned to her, wincing slightly.

“Nine,” he replied sheepishly. “But, they’re small and I promise they’re delicious.” Lucy nodded, snuggling closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder as their next course was set down. 

“When do we get to the traditional sushi?” she asked as she eyed the piece of fish sitting on a block of ice. Wyatt chuckled, slicing the piece of fish in half and placing her portion on her plate. 

“Patience, Luce, just eat your salmon and beef.” 

* * *

 

Six courses later and Lucy was a master at using chopsticks, even for foods traditionally requiring a fork and knife. She had eaten every piece of sushi and odd Japanese cuisine that Wyatt had set in front of her. Wyatt helped her out of the restaurant with his arm wrapped securely around her waist as she giggled about something the chef had said to them as they’d left. 

“That was excellent,” she beamed, looking up at him as they emerged into the cool air of the night. Wyatt smiled at her, squeezing the arm that was wrapped around her. “Thank you for taking me, Wyatt,” she murmured, standing on her toes and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. 

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he whispered as she sighed contentedly and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder as they headed back to his car parked a few streets away. 

He helped her into the passenger seat before circling around to the driver’s side and climbing into the car. Completely content with the fullness of her stomach from the meal she’d just experienced, Lucy quickly drifted off to sleep in the passenger seat of Wyatt’s car as he drove them home. 

She vaguely registered his phone ringing, but in her sleepy haze, she shrugged it off and snuggled deeper into the seat cushions. 

It wasn’t until the car stopped in front of a building that wasn’t her and Wyatt’s apartment that she sat up straight and frowned at Wyatt. 

“Emma jumped while you were asleep,” he explained sadly. Lucy groaned as she shifted in her seat, slumping slightly. “I know, babe, but it’s important.” 

“Where did she go?” Lucy asked, wincing as she stretched her arms up. 

“March 30, 1981.”

Lucy’s heart sank. It was the day of Reagan’s attempted assassination. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact *confetti*: the restaurant Lucy and Wyatt go to is a real restaurant and I spent A LOT of time researching what the menu might have been and reading reviews and looking at pictures of the food, so I'm lowkey bummed I only got to describe two dishes. But, there are nine courses, like Wyatt said, so it would have been a lot of needless filler. If you are interested in what else they might have eaten, the Yelp page for Delage in Old Oakland is extremely helpful. Lucy was treated to high-end sushi. 
> 
> Chapters will be coming quickly as we near the end. Thank you to all who have read and commented; your words keep me going!! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY SEASON TWO!!! Anyone I talked to during the premiere knows why I'm posting Chapter 18 now instead of waiting until the entire fic is finished. Apparently, a lot about this fic is now canon? Emma calling Lucy 'princess'? JFK? So, here's the next installment. I'm halfway done with 19, and I do plan on releasing the remaining chapters all at once, so it will be a bit of a wait, but I promise I'm working on it. 
> 
> This chapter is slightly shorter than usual, but keep in mind that I was originally planning on posting the entire thing at once. Bear with me; the rest will come! And it will come sooner than six months from now!
> 
> If anyone cares about my personal life (and how awesome it just got) feel free to message me on tumblr!
> 
> Everyone else, please enjoy! :)

****The dizziness began in the parking lot of Mason Industries and as both Lucy and Wyatt rushed into the building and began debriefing and being shoved into the changing rooms in the wardrobe dock, it only got worse. Lucy’s head was spinning again, except this time it was out of pure terror. Now that they knew that Emma had been seeing John more often than they thought, she must have deemed him ready to take on his task of assassinating the president. And, if he was ready to kill the president in cold blood, Lucy wouldn’t be able to stop him.

John would have to die, and Lucy hated changing history like that. 

She quickly dressed in a floral dress and pinned her hair up after Jiya teased it a little. Lucy smiled wistfully as she looked at herself in the mirror; she looked like her mother. Lucy had, of course, only seen photos of her mother in the 80s, after she met Henry, on her wedding day, and any photos she had with baby Lucy. Her favorite photo of her mother, unfortunately, no longer existed in this timeline because of Amy’s absence; the photo of a young Carol Preston, still with rosy cheeks and a 90s bob, cradling a baby Amy, with a young Lucy hanging off of her other arm, both beaming up at the camera. Amy was wide awake, smiling that little baby smile, reaching her hand out toward Lucy. 

Lucy loved that picture. 

“Luce,” Wyatt called out, knocking once on the door to her changing room. Lucy quickly snapped out of it and continued to dot the apples of her cheeks with blush. She looked up as he gently pushed the door open. “Come on, babe, we need to get going.” Lucy nodded and put her brush back down as she stood, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. 

“Let’s go,” she murmured, trying to push through the doorway. Wyatt stopped the door and she frowned up at him. 

“You look great,” he whispered, smiling down at her and she chuckled, rolling her eyes as she tried to sidle through the door. He leaned forward and kissed her quickly. Lucy pulled him closer, hooking one arm around his neck as she stepped closer, her other arm slung around his waist. “Luce,” he mumbled against her lips as she tried to press herself closer, clinging to him. “Come on, I know you’re afraid, but we do have to get going,” he whispered as she slowly relinquished her hold on him. 

“You’re right,” she whispered, smirking slightly. “That’s new,” she teased. Wyatt rolled his eyes goodnaturedly, his hand smoothing it’s way from her waist to grasp her fingers tightly in his. 

“Let’s go, ma’am,” he murmured, pulling her out of the dressing room and down the hallway toward the Lifeboat. 

The dizziness hadn’t subsided as she climbed up into the time machine, Wyatt’s hand on the small of her back to steady her as she stumbled to her chair. Rufus was already in his seat, performing their pre-flight routine. 

“Lucy, are you okay?” he asked, frowning at her as she took deep breaths in her seat. She nodded as a concerned Wyatt brushed her hair away from her forehead, quickly beading with sweat, and fastened her seatbelts. 

“I’m just nervous,” she admitted, trying to force a smile, anything to comfort her teammates. 

It didn’t work. 

Wyatt reached out and gripped her hand in his, just as he’d done after Lincoln had been assassinated. It seemed so long ago, now, Lucy thought as she relaxed into the touch, his thumb sweeping across the back of her hand soothing her. 

The Lifeboat began to shake all around them as Rufus piloted his way to March 30, 1981, Washington, DC. Lucy pitched forward as the time machine landed with a thud, the sound of cracking tree branches emanating from just outside the door. 

“Wyatt,” she gasped as she quickly tried to undo her seatbelt, breathing hard and fast. Wyatt quickly helped her out of her chair and, just as the door to the Lifeboat opened, Lucy threw herself over the edge, emptying the contents of her stomach off the lip of the time machine. 

Wyatt rubbed her back soothingly as she continued to heave until there was nothing left. Distantly, she heard Wyatt mention something about a bottle to Rufus, and she couldn’t figure out what he could possibly mean until he was helping her sit up and pressing a cold bottle of water into her hands, forcing her to take a sip. 

“I don’t suppose they have ginger ale in 1981 DC,” he murmured as he rubbed her back and brushed her hair back from her forehead, now sticky with cold sweat. She nodded, trying to tell him that of course they did; they had it when they were younger, and they were only two years ahead of her and Rufus’ birth. 

“I’ll go find some,” Rufus murmured, squeezing past Wyatt and carefully climbing out of the Lifeboat, avoiding the mess Lucy made in the grass. As he ran off, Wyatt pulled Lucy back into his chest, holding her as she attempted to swallow some more water. 

“We’re going to change history,” she whimpered against him as he tightened his hold on her, nodding into her hair. “And it won’t even be for the better. It won’t even be worth it,” she whispered, choking back a sob.

“We’re going to save the President,” he reminded her, nodding his agreement toward her last statement, “granted, he’s not exactly a President worth saving, but,” he trailed off as Lucy took another sip of water. “As long as we can convince John not to shoot fatally, it’ll be fine, and I trust you.” He turned her face towards his, their eyes locked. “No one’s changing history,” he promised, his voice fierce, determined. “We’ll fix everything, Luce. For better or worse.” Lucy’s breath caught in her throat at those words, spoken so reverently as he tucked her head back under his chin, thinking her speechlessness was another symptom of the fear that had settled in the pit of her stomach. 

‘For better or worse’, Lucy repeated in her head as she snuggled closer to Wyatt. Words spoken by husbands and wives, and they sounded so comforting coming from his lips. Forgetting herself for a moment, she closed her eyes and allowed memories from a lifetime that wasn’t hers to flood back to her. Being married to Wyatt had been easy. Even with two little girls running around, marriage hadn’t been a challenge. It was just the same, except they wore rings. 

She knew that wouldn’t be the case in this timeline, though. Eventually, hopefully, Rittenhouse would be defeated, and they’d return to their normal lives. Or, they’d _try_ to, depending on how much they changed between now and then. He’d go back to Pendleton, and she’d go back to Stanford. 

Or, maybe she’d move to Ohio, become a professor at the small school she turned down years ago, when her mother was essentially running her life. 

Suddenly, she didn’t want them to defeat Rittenhouse. At the end of it all, they’d all be separated. And if her family ties were so rooted into the origin of the damn organization, what was keeping her alive? What if they destroyed Rittenhouse and destroyed her in the process?

“I think about that a lot,” Wyatt whispered and Lucy startled in his arms. “Yeah, you were saying that out loud,” he chuckled, sweeping her hair back and pressing a kiss to her hairline. “But, it’s true. It’s possible that when we destroy Rittenhouse, we’ll destroy your family. If that happens, I promise I’ll do absolutely everything I can to bring you back,” Wyatt vowed, holding her tighter. “But, you’re wrong about one thing,” he continued, pulling away to look at her. “We won’t be separated. Even if you go back to teaching and I stay in Delta Force, all of this should have you convinced by now that we’ll always find our way back to each other,” he reminded her, and she gave him a watery smile as he quickly leaned down to peck her lips. 

Rufus soon returned with ginger ale and some crackers for Lucy to nibble on, and they made their way to the Washington Hilton Hotel, which John would possibly be lurking near. 

* * *

They reached the hotel quickly enough, Lucy hanging onto Wyatt’s neck as he all but dragged her along. 

“You should’ve stayed in the Lifeboat,” he grumbled, ignoring her protests and sweeping her legs up into his arms, carrying her as they continued walking. 

“How are we going to stop him, Wyatt?” she murmured, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “He’s a master marksman, now, otherwise Emma wouldn’t have bothered following him here.” Wyatt shook his head, coming to a stop by the edge of the hotel. 

“I’ll find a way,” he promised. “I’ll distract him somehow.” Rufus raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. 

“When did this become our lives?” he asked no one in particular, frowning at the ground in front of him. “I almost miss sitting behind my computer every day.” 

“October 3rd,” Lucy replied with a breathless chuckle as Rufus playfully rolled his eyes at her literal answer. “Many years from now,” she added. 

“Where would Emma be?” Wyatt asked, squinting at their surroundings, his grip on Lucy tightening. She looked around, biting her lip. 

“I’m honestly not sure. John would be standing near the hotel, but if she’s taught him to shoot to kill, he might even be posted on a rooftop somewhere, ready to take a headshot if necessary,” she realized, looking up at the surrounding buildings. Wyatt glanced at Rufus and nodded his head, gently setting Lucy down on a bench by the entrance to the hotel, concealed from sight by large rosebushes. 

“Okay, Luce, I need you to stay right here,” he whispered, smoothing her hair back, cupping her cheek. “Rufus and I are going to look for John and Emma. If anything happens, you call me, okay?” He leaned forward, quickly kissing her forehead, his fingers wrapped in tendrils of her hair. “I’ll come right back, I promise I won’t go too far.” Lucy nodded as he kissed her lips tenderly, but too quickly. 

And then he was gone, and Lucy was alone.

* * *

Lucy had lost track of time, taking care to slump against the bench Wyatt had carefully placed her on, trying to calm the swirling madness inside her head, the pounding ache that refused to subside, and the twist of her stomach at the thought of Wyatt failing. 

Or worse, she realized, John failing. If John got Wyatt alone, based on past encounters, it wouldn’t end well. Wyatt was quick, of course, but John was an expert now. Emma would’ve made sure he could hold up one-on-one, and she worried John’s blind rage would be enough to give him the courage to gun Wyatt down without a second thought. Or, Rufus, she realized, which would be just as worse. 

Once those thoughts settled in, calm was hard to claim, and she found herself laying back on the bench, trying to steady her breathing as her stomach twisted dangerously again. 

She leaned over the side of the bench and emptied her stomach once more, the crackers she’d eaten earlier making it a little easier to throw up, but not much. A hand settled in between her shoulder blades as she continued to be sick, and she relaxed, glad that Wyatt had returned so soon.

When she was finished, she lay back against the bench, face turned up at the cloudy sky, completely spent. 

“Where was he?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes closed as she smoothed her hair away from her face, wishing there was more of a chill in the air. 

“Where was who?” someone asked, and Lucy shot up from the bench, the action making her dizziness that much worse, and the man reached out to help steady her. “Lucy, what’s the matter with you? Are you ill?”

“John,” she rasped, trying to steady her vision, but he multiplied before her eyes, each version blurrier than the next. “How did you find me?” she asked, stumbling back toward the bench. Maybe if she could keep him here long enough for Wyatt to come back, they could save history and save John. 

“I heard you get sick,” he explained, worry still creasing his brow. “I came to help whoever it was and found you.” He leaned forward now, and Lucy tried to back away as far as the bench seat would allow her. “What’s the matter?” he repeated. “Did someone hurt you?” 

“No, John,” Lucy replied, shaking her head. “No, I’m fine. I think it’s just all the traveling,” she continued, truthfully. She remembered Rufus saying something about time travel sickness and had calmly kept the thought out of her head, not wanting to worry herself over nothing. But, this was certainly something, and the other side effects he’d warned them of that could occur from such a sickness had been bouncing around in her mind since Wyatt and Rufus had wandered off. 

Luc straightened, cursing her fuzzy brain for not thinking straight. They had wandered off to look for John, who now sat right here in front of her, completely unarmed by the looks of it, and she was supposed to call Wyatt if anything happened. 

Her movement must have alerted John because he straightened as well, his limbs locking up as he glanced over her. “What’s happening to you?” he asked, shooting up from the bench to pace back and forth. “Did _he_ do this?” he asked through gritted teeth, and Lucy felt properly afraid as he locked his eyes on hers. Thinking he meant Wyatt, she automatically started shaking her head, worried for his safety. “He did, didn’t he?” John scoffed, reaching into his waistband and producing a modern gun, presumably given to him by Emma. “I’ll save you, Lucy. I’ll put an end to all of this.”

“Wyatt,” she breathed, as John quickly checked the clip for ammo. “Wyatt!” she called out louder this time. John turned on her, shock and betrayal marring his face. “Wyatt!” she called again as John shook his head, a dark smirk adorning his lips. 

“Oh, Lucy,” he murmured, loading the clip. He cocked the gun, flicking the safety off. “That was a big mistake,” he murmured as the rosebushes surrounding them rustled. 

Wyatt immediately burst through, his gun trained on John, but John was too quick and fired a shot, hitting Wyatt right in the shoulder before running the other direction where a crowd had gathered to watch as President Reagan exited the hotel. 

“Wyatt!” Lucy forgot her illness as she launched herself off of the bench to worry over Wyatt’s shoulder. He weakly pushed her off. 

“Luce, I’m fine, I promise, but you have to stop John,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand. Rufus came skidding out of the bushes all of a sudden, his eyes wide at the sight. He quickly ripped his sweater off and pressed it to Wyatt’s shoulder. “Good thinking, buddy,” Wyatt slurred, smirking at their friend. 

“It’s not a good thing that I’ve gotten so good at this, is it?” Rufus wondered aloud, and Wyatt chuckled as he swept his thumb over Lucy’s cheek. 

“Go stop John,” he urged her. “You can do it, Luce, I believe in you. I know Reagan’s an ass, but he doesn’t deserve to die.” Lucy nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks already. “Go save history,” he whispered, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing her fingers. 

“We’ll meet you back at the Lifeboat,” Rufus reassured her as he tried to help Wyatt stand, keeping the cloth pressed tightly to his shoulder. “Be careful,” he urged, and she nodded. She squeezed Wyatt’s hand and frowned down at him, trying not to let anymore tears escape as she attempted to be strong. 

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded, bending down to kiss him. He nodded as she pulled away, her fingers reaching up to run through his hair. 

Then, with a small sigh, she shot up and out of the hidden space, aiming straight for the crowd of spectators gathered outside the hotel. 

 


End file.
